There's A Way Through to the Other Side in the End
by morning sunlight
Summary: Dean and Sam struggle through the aftermath of Devil's Trap with the help of some friends.
1. Something Wicked This Way Comes

**_There's a Way Through to the Other Side In The End

* * *

_**

**_Disclaimer_**: Supernatural doesn't belong to me, nor do Dean, Sam, or the other characters you recognise. I am making no money so please don't come looking for me.

* * *

**_Warning_**: some violence as the story progresses 

**_Spoilers_** - post-end of Series 1 Devil's Trap so some passing mention of events in Season episodes such as Faith, Home, Devil's Trap etc.

* * *

_**Author's Note:** Depending which episode I have watched most recently, my feelings about John Winchester vary. If you are a fan of JW - don't read and flame - this story for reasons best known to itself was not kind to him - if that is going to upset you, please don't read on._

_**Author's Note (2):** I would imagine this story to be AU - JW is, I hope for all of our sakes, OOC and from that the boys reactions should also be somewhat so. Having said that, I would hope that in the light of something bad, the boys would stick together and offer what support they can to each other._

_

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_

**_Chapter 1 – Something Wicked This Way Comes_**

Sam jerks awake, sitting up abruptly. Nothing. The room is dark. He can hear Dean's even breathing; see dim lights from outside through the motel curtains, the occasional brighter light as a car sweeps past on the road outside. Nothing out of the ordinary. He works on calming his breathing. "Just a dream," he tells himself, "just a dream." His heart still hammers, he listens to Dean's breathing and tries to slow his to keep in time.

He adjusts the pillow behind him and settles back against the headboard. No point trying to go straight back to sleep at this point. He will either fall straight back into the dream or lie awake worrying for an age. The time is better spent considering the dream objectively or as much so as possible.

_There had been two young children. The older of the two appeared to be about 7 and was clearly looking after the younger who from what Sam had seen in his dream was probably little more than a toddler. The older was holding the younger in his arms rocking back and forth soothing gently. There was a palpable air of concern and fear surrounding the older child although the younger appeared to be asleep peacefully in his arms._

It's not the first time Sam has had this dream and he still can't work out why he'd woken up. It's not painful like his usual visions, after the initial shock of waking, his head rapidly calms down. It wasn't like a nightmare as such, the only reason he questions it is the radiating fear from the older child. Nothing else is apparent. Maybe there is more to the dream, something to tell him who the children are and possibly more importantly where they are and what the danger is to them.

He feels calmer, figures maybe it's worth trying to get some more sleep. He fixes the pillow and lies back down, but even so it's a long time before he relaxes enough to fall asleep.

* * *

Sun's up and so is Dean (well, kind of anyway). Today is going to be better. He looks across at Sam sleeping and hopes he's been like that all night, he knows Sam hasn't been sleeping well lately, probably worrying about Dean. He reaches out for the one crutch he keeps beside the bed, the other is near the door where there's room for him to use both, and manoeuvres round in the small space between the beds to stand gingerly. He eyes up the chair, it's not far, he should be able to get there without waking Sam. Realistically, with enough time, Dean figures he can make it anywhere, he just can't do it all that quietly right now, andnot without stopping for a rest. The chair is at the end of Sam's bed so it's not far to go. He makes it and takes a quick look back to see if he has woken Sam before lowering himself gently down into the chair. The old and cheap chair creaks alarmingly under his weight. 

It was all it took, Sam rolled over, blinked and yawned, "Hey bro, you're up. Leg bad? You need some painkillers.' The last Dean deciphers round yet another jaw-cracking yawn and sighs.

"Sorry Sam. Didn't mean to wake you, cheap chairs can't take my weight."

"'S okay. Cheap chair can barely hold the weight of a pixie, let alone you. Time I was getting up anyway. Don't know about you but I'm ready for something to eat. You want the bathroom first?"

"Nah. I'm good, you go first."

When Sam comes out of the bathroom, he realises that Dean is watching him. "You okay, Dean?"

"I couldn't be better."

"Now that I don't believe, given the …"

"Yeah, Sammy, given the circumstances, I couldn't be better. Sure different circumstances might see me feeling even better, but with the ones we've got I'm good. What about you?"

"I'm fine."

Dean looks critically at his younger brother before shaking his head and saying, "See, I don't believe that for some reason."

"Dean, I'm fine. We've been through this. I had no lasting injuries on me, cuts, bruises… they all healed fine long before you were ready to get out of that hospital…"

Dean's eyes move away from his brother, "ready came a lot sooner than able, Sam." He replies quietly.

"I know, Dean, I know" he sighs as he rests his hand soothingly on his brother's shoulder, "you're out now though."

Dean seems to pull himself together a bit, "Anyway, I wasn't talking about injuries, I was talking about you."

Sam's answer is slow and drawn out, almost patronising in its tone "The answer is still, I'm fine."

Dean's response holds a hint of irritation; he knows when Sam is playing him for a fool, "Then why aren't you sleeping?"

"What? Dean, I'm fine."

"Sam. I know you think I'm stupid or something and so drugged up I don't know my own ass from my elbow, but listen up, I am not stupid and I may be drugged half the time to the point I couldn't stay awake through a bomb blast, but I don't need to be awake to know you aren't sleeping."

"Dean! Dude!"

"Sam, go look at yourself in the mirror and trust me, you'll see a man who isn't sleeping."

"Okay." Sam's tone acknowledges both defeat and the truth in what Dean has said.

"So plain old nightmare? Or is it something more? A vision?"

Sam sits down on the end of the bed, his knees bare inches from Dean. He leans forward and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Vision, maybe" resigned, he continues, "it doesn't feel like the rest, the others before and I can't work out enough of the detail. I keep trying Dean, but it just doesn't fall into place. I can't quite figure it."

"How long?"

"Since Dad left."

Dean adjusts his position carefully, so his hand can reach Sam's knee. As Sam looks up, he says, "I'm sorry Sammy. Listen tonight I'll stay awake, I'll be here for you."

"And how are you going to do that exactly Dean?"

"I'll manage."

"Manage? No! No way, Dean. That is so not going to happen. I won't let you. It's the only time of the day, you're taking the dose of **all** your meds that the hospital actually prescribed."

"Sam, if I took what they suggested I'd never be awake, hell, I **really** wouldn't know my ass from my frigging elbow."

"Dean, I get it but I don't want you to mess this up," he gestured wildly at his brother indicating the injuries he still carried. "It's not worth it. I need you to get better, not to watch me sleep or not. Look we're not doing much at the minute. I promise I'll take it easy, but you, you've got to promise me, you'll stick to those meds. If you don't, you're not going to manage your rehab. Please Dean."

Relief swept over Sam, when Dean nodded his assent. In truth, he knew Sam was right and as much as he hated the effect the meds were having on him, the permanently groggy feeling, the heavy sleep from which he woke still tired, he knew he'd pared down the painkiller doses as much as he could. The pain was worse than he was letting on, and the night-time doses that finally took the pain and sent him to sleep were a welcome relief.

* * *

As night approaches, Dean offers once more to stay awake. Sam smiles before gently refusing. He can see the pain etched on his brother's face, the weariness in his eyes and the pallor of his normally healthy looking complexion. "It's okay, Dean, it's probably nothing; just some weird-ass dream." 

"Sammy, I…"

"Dean, it's okay. If it happens again, we'll talk in the morning. If I need you, I'll wake you. Now here, take these and get some sleep." He hands over the combination of drugs from the hospital, smiling again at Dean's grimace. Moving to sit down again, he flicks on the TV to a low soothing hum and watches as the drugs gradually begin to kick in. It doesn't take all that long for Dean to relax into sleep.

Sam continues to watch as the tension gradually eases from his brother's body, as the frown that seems almost constant at the moment gradually lifts and the years seem to recede as Dean falls into a deeper slumber.

* * *

As the weeks go by, their life falls into a routine. Each weekday morning, Sam drives Dean to the hospital for his rehab, then parks up and goes to work. He's managed to pick up a part-time job in a second-hand bookstore, it's only a couple of hours but at this stage any money he can make is sorely needed. Sam is well aware of how much he has always relied on Dean to make sure they had enough money to keep going. Three or so hours later, he heads back to pick up Dean, from where he'll be in the Hospital grounds. 

They discovered in the first week that the hospital appointments don't always run to schedule so Dean knows that some days he's in for a wait before being seen and others he waits for Sam to get back. "No point in us both sitting here" is what he said to Sam that first week, "get out and do something while you can." He remembers the conversation – he hadn't meant for Sam to get a job, not that he's objecting, he hasn't really got the right to complain at all. After all, they need every dollar they can lay their hands on and he's pretty useless on that score right now, instead he's lumbered Sam with the responsibility of coming up with cash.

They both know Sam doesn't like to hustle pool or cards on his own, feels better when he knows Dean's watching his back and that just isn't going to happen right now. Dean can't make it into the bar, it's too much effort and when he's there, he can't drink thanks to the painkillers, nor play pool thanks to his injuries and he certainly can't watch Sam's back for him right now. There would be no enjoyment to the visit, all it gives him is an overwhelming sense of everything he isn't anymore and just how useless he is right now.

Sam keeps telling him the situation is temporary and sometimes Dean believes him. He wants to believe him all the time, he doesn't want Sam to feel obliged to keep telling him but then in his darker moments, he wonders if Sam is only saying it out of obligation and because Dean really needs to hear it. They are having a lot of conversations like that right now.

"I'm not leaving you Dean," says Sam.

"_Yet_," adds the memory of the Demon's voice.

"You're going to get better, everything will be fine," says Sam.

"_Sure and they really want to wait that long! They don't need a cripple like you, but boy, how are you going to manage to live any sort of life without them?"_ retorts the Demon's voice.

"You're strong, man. I have faith in you, Dean," says Sam.

_"A loser like you, the only thing you can be trusted to do is screw up."_

Dean doesn't really need the demon's voice to tell him the things he knows are true. He's exhausted, fucking useless and he knows it. He's pushing himself all the time but it just isn't getting any easier. The only respite he gets from the pain and the demon's voice is after he takes his evening meds and collapses into a dreamless sleep, thankful not to wake until morning. In odd moments of coherence and lucidity, he wonders if he should tell Sam about the voice, if he should admit just how much pain he's in and that he's not sure things are getting any better but he knows it's his job to protect Sam and so he doesn't say anything. Sam has got enough trouble right now, he's hardly sleeping, running round after Dean and he's worried enough about his brother and Dean figures he owes it to Sam not to add to that worry.

* * *

It's dark outside, only the distant street lights glimmer through the window, when Sam wakes up. He shivers at the feel of cooling sweat on his body, and tries to steady his breathing. He knows now, knows what the dream has been trying to tell him and he just wishes it made him feel better but it doesn't. A sudden urge to check Dean's alright has him reaching for the lamp beside his bed. His hand stops short as he tries to rationalise his way out of turning the light on, after all, he can hear Dean's gentle almost-snores, he's got used to that since Dean's come out of hospital, he's not normally one for snoring so Sam figures it's probably down to either the meds he's taking or the position he's sleeping in, trying to find a comfortable position with his leg and the still healing lacerations to his chest. He rationalises that he's salted the doors and windows and for good measure he's done round the beds as well. When rationalising doesn't work and holding his arm out just short of the lamp makes it ache, he flicks the switch and then blinks in the glow trying to settle his eyes. 

He stands and moves the few steps to Dean's bed, looking down at his sleeping brother. He regards Dean's features with intensity, just looking; he's got to be sure, he thinks he's worked it out. There's no room for error if this is the conclusion he's going to draw. He reaches out and gently smoothes Dean's hair, he sits on the edge of the bed, "Fuck, Dean, what was it like huh?" Peaceful drug-induced sleep may make life a nightmare afterwards when Dean is left groggy and struggling to co-ordinate his body, but it takes years off Dean at the time.

"How often did he put you through that Dean?" It's not like Sam expects an answer from his sleeping brother, but somehow he just needs to ask and right now he's not sure Dean could cope with him asking when he was awake. He's not entirely sure what Dean is going through when he's awake but he's certain it's bad, it's worse than Dean is admitting to and it's more than just the physical pain of his injuries. "You still think you're protecting me, don't you Dean? But what from now?" He wonders if the dream is supposed to be a clue to what's going on inside his brother's head. He reconsiders what he's been seeing all these nights.

_Dean sitting on a bed with a sleeping Sammy in his arms, rocking as if to soothe but Sammy is so deeply asleep the rocking isn't to soothe him nor the quiet litany of words that stream endlessly desolate from his lips, "It's okay…ssh…he's coming back…it's okay…ssshh…he promised Sammy, he promised he'd come back…sshh…he won't leave us Sammy…it's okay…" endless variation on a theme. With tears in his eyes, quiet fear and anguish in his voice, this Dean is fighting the belief he and his brother have been abandoned. _

Sam looks at his brother, "Did you ever sleep when he was gone? I never realised, I always thought everything was fine, you did so well. I never knew I ought to be worried. You were so strong, Dean. Did you hide it from him as well as me?"

Dean tries to roll over searching for a new position. Sam watches quietly. He sees his brother gasp and his muscles clench as if even in his sleep the pain has not truly gone. Dean rolls back to almost the same position and continues to sleep. "Yeah and that's worrying me too. That demon made a real mess of your chest, but is it getting any better? I know they're checking it out at the hospital but you know what, I watch you and you don't seem any more comfortable than when it first happened, I'd prefer it if I was checking it at least then I'd know. You know what Dean, tomorrow I'll come with you. I'll call in to work and come with you."

With a gentle pat to his brother's shoulder, Sam stands, adjusts the covers and heads back to his own bed.

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_**Author's Note:** So did you like it? I always appreciate reviews. Good wishes to you all and More Soon._


	2. Heading Downhill There's No Stopping

**_There's a Way Through to the Other Side In The End

* * *

_**

**_Disclaimer_**: Supernatural doesn't belong to me, nor do Dean, Sam, or the other characters you recognise. I am making no money so please don't come looking for me.

* * *

**_Warning_**: some violence as the story progresses 

**_Spoilers_** - post-end of Series 1 Devil's Trap so some passing mention of events in Season episodes such as Faith, Home, Devil's Trap etc.

**_Thanks to Rae Artemis for her support, help and 'betaing' - You're a star._**

* * *

_**Author's Note:** Depending which episode I have watched most recently, my feelings about John Winchester vary. If you are a fan of JW - don't read and flame - this story for reasons best known to itself was not kind to him - if that is going to upset you, please don't read on._

_**Author's Note (2):** I would imagine this story to be AU - JW is, I hope for all of our sakes, OOC and from that the boys reactions should also be somewhat so. Having said that, I would hope that in the light of something bad, the boys would stick together and offer what support they can to each other._

_

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_

_**Chapter 2 - Heading Downhill There's No Stopping**_

Dean really can't quite believe what he's hearing this morning. It's so not what he wants to be happening it's untrue. "Look Sam. I appreciate your concern, I really do," _like hell I do, _"but you'll just be bored, nothing happens and there's no decent looking chicks, trust me, I've spent enough time there to know and anyway much as it pains me to say this, I'm not exactly bringing any money in right now, so we're both relying on your job."

"Dean it's fine, they've asked if I can cover for someone tomorrow when I'm not supposed to be in anyway, and that's a full shift not just a couple of hours, so I'll get more than usual anyway. So I figured we could get the hospital over and done with and then hang out for the day. Besides, Dad's sent us some money."

"He has? What did he have to say? How is he? Where is he?"

"Yeah. It would be enough to keep us going a while even if I wasn't earning a bit."

"So how is he? How's he recovering? Where?"

"Dean, you know what he's like, I'm sure he's fine. I don't know why you worry about him so much." Irritation and impatience stream out of his mouth tangling with the words as they're spoken.

"I…it's just… he…" Dean's voice peters out and his head drops in defeat, eyes closed. He doesn't need the demon's voice to tell him that Dad didn't ask after him, he knows and now he's made Sam have to try and cover it up, try and protect his feelings and so now Sam is fed up too.

"Dean?" Sam stands.

"I'm fine, Sam." His tone of voice refutes the statement, he just sounds defeated.

"Dean," Sam's voice is quiet, "What is it? What are you thinking?"

"Sam…" he waits until their eyes meet, "What did he say? Is he okay?" He sees the irritation in his younger brother's eyes, hears the annoyed sigh. He can't take it anymore, the demon's voice taunting him inside, the pain of wounds that won't heal, the knowledge that he is being a burden to his brother. He figures this is it; this is what defeat feels like, that and true self-knowledge. He's known for years that he spends his life acting, good soldier, good son, big brother, protector, hunter, flirt but it's taken the demon's voice to remind him why he started acting and what it was he was hiding. Underneath it all, he's a weak shell of a person. He's supposed to look out for his brother and his dad and just look at the bang up job he's made of that lately. He can hear the demon laughing, jeering. He knows the demon's reminding him, he's not going to be doing anything useful anytime soon. In the meantime, Dean Winchester is nothing more than a burden to his younger brother.

He grabs the nearest crutch and levers himself up, making his way slowly towards the bathroom. He rests his hand on the doorframe for support and turns to look back at his brother. "Sorry Sam," before turning back to the door.

"Dean, wait… listen. It's not you, okay, it's him. I'm annoyed with him. Sit down please." He stops his brother as he starts forward into the bathroom again, "Dean, stop. Turn around, we need to talk." All he receives by way of response is a shake of the head and a renewed attempt to get into the bathroom.

"No Dean! This time you don't get it your way; you are going to sit down and listen. I need to talk to you and **_I_** need you to listen." Sam knows its cruel, is worried about how much it's going to hurt but he's got to get Dean sat where he can't get away and where Sam can see his face as they talk, so he grabs him and drags him to sit on the nearest bed. He hears a gasp of shock at the first contact and then a groan of pain as his brother's body tenses. He makes it as quick as possible and once he's placed Dean on the bed he grabs a chair quickly and sits in front of Dean, in his space, there's no way for Dean to get away.

As he settles he can hear the rapid breathing of his brother as he tries to get the pain back under control. "I'm sorry, Dean. I didn't want to hurt you, but you need to listen to me. I'm worried about you."

"Did he say anything at all about me?" there's a hitch to his voice as he asks the question.

"Dean, he didn't say anything at all. He sent an envelope with money, nothing else, nowhere to find him, no number to call him on, no hint as to how he is, nothing. Apart from the fact that random strangers don't just send us money, the only reason I know it's him is it's his writing on the envelope. He sent it to Bobby, who dropped it in to the motel reception for us"

"Nothing else?"

"Nothing. I'm sorry Dean."

"He'd have stayed if…"

"What Dean? What do you think would have made him stay?"

"…if it was you."

"I don't know Dean. I doubt it. I don't think he knows what's important anymore. You shouldn't let it get to you. You're worth more than that, worrying about what he thinks. He doesn't notice, he's too wrapped up in his own private war the only time he looks out is to see what's gone wrong. You let him blame you, you let him drag you down, you shouldn't, not anymore. It's over for now, Dean." Sam regards his brother with sadness in his eyes. The man in front of him is not the Dean he knew, has always known, strong, vibrant full of life, ready for action, this man is defeated and in pain. "Dean, do you want some painkillers? You look rough. I'm sorry I grabbed you, man." A single small nod is all the reply he gets. Sam moves away only to return moments later with a glass of water and the painkillers, "Dean, here." He hasn't moved since Sam dragged him to the bed, the crutch lies forgotten where it dropped and he makes no effort to reach for the glass. Sam sits down next to him, "Dean? You want these?" he holds the water and the pills in front of his brother and watches as Dean's hand falls from his chest to snag the pills and the other hand reaches slowly for the glass. He can see the tremors in both hands and wonders when they started. Are they pain, tension or something worse?

Dean seems reluctant to take hold of the glass, Sam realises he's probably worried it's going to fall, "Let me help you." He's relieved when Dean nods and he's able to help him.

"Sorry Sam."

"Come on, Dean. Nothing to apologise for, if anyone should be saying sorry it's me, I hurt you. Let's get ready and get you down that hospital. Is there anything you want me to know before we get there because I am coming with you?"

"It's not going so well. It hasn't got better like it should, just slower, still looks bad, but it's okay really. They don't know why."

"You didn't say anything before. Why?"

"I wanted everything to be okay, I wanted us to be able to leave, I didn't want to be a burden, didn't want you to think you had to keep looking out for me. You don't have to keep looking out for me, Sam, it's okay" Sam can hear the desperation in his voice.

"Dean, everything will be okay. It's just going to take a bit more time. We can do it, we can wait."

"You shouldn't have to. I don't want you to. You can go, I understand, I want you to go. It's all fine."

"I'm not leaving you, Dean."

Sam is worried when Dean shivers, but watches as he nods his understanding and tries again to get ready to go.

* * *

_**Author's Note: **Thank you to the wonderful people who reviewed Chapter 1 it was very much appreciated. I hope this lives up to your expectation. Chapter 3 is on its way soon._

_Anyone who would like to review will be worshipped accordingly._


	3. Monologue Thanks to a Demon

**_There's a Way Through to the Other Side In The End

* * *

_**

**_Disclaimer_**: Supernatural doesn't belong to me, nor do Dean, Sam, or the other characters you recognise. I am making no money so please don't come looking for me.

* * *

**_Warning_**: some violence as the story progresses 

**_Spoilers_** - post-end of Series 1 Devil's Trap so some passing mention of events in Season episodes such as Faith, Home, Devil's Trap etc.

**_Thanks to Rae Artemis for her support, help and 'betaing' - You're a star._**

* * *

_**Author's Note: Thank you** to everyone who has reviewed so far - it is greatly appreciated. I hope the story continues to please. I shall reply to as many reviewers as possible individually. I'd like to reassure _K Hanna Korossy _and anyone else who is worried that as I hope the title suggests the boys do find a way through to the other side and the story ends positively however, until we get there it does get a bit worse along the way._

_I am posting as quickly as I am able at the moment and just hope the rest of the story continues to meet with the approval of all you wonderful people._

* * *

**_Chapter 3 - Monologue -Thanks to a Demon_**

Dean knows he should have talked to Sam earlier. He knew the big brother act was crap, it had been for years and he hadn't needed the demon's voice to tell him that, even though it had. Made no difference though, he still kept the act up, played make believe that he was strong and capable, a protector. But in reality… yeah, in reality Dean Winchester was a master of self-delusion and not much else. Even Sam didn't fall for it any more.

Good intentions aside (and he's always _wanted_ and _intended_ to protect his brother), Dean figures he's not really made much of his life, not like Sam. Sam had the right idea, college, job, wife, house, kids but Dean knows he could never have done that. No-one can _act_ normal long enough to get all those things. Sam might be the one with psychic brainwaves but it didn't take a psychiatrist to tell that Dean was the real freak and if Dean was out of the way, maybe Sam could have another chance.

Dean has been listening to the demon's voice for weeks now. It'd been there since before he woke up properly in the hospital and the only time it goes away is when he takes the really good stuff from the hospital, the stuff that knocks him out, but it's back again before he wakes up. If he could figure out a way to take the stuff without the need to come round and face reality in between, he'd be sorely tempted, but then what would Sam think. Sam. That's what it's all about in Dean's mind. Sam. He's got to at least try to protect his brother, try to make up for all the shit that has happened, try to … He doesn't know anymore.

He knows the hospital can't explain why the wound on his chest isn't getting better, seems to start healing only to get re-infected. He guesses it's got something to do with the demon, but what exactly he doesn't know and it's hardly an explanation he can give to the hospital anyway, although maybe if he did, they might take him in and lock him up, then maybe Sam could move on. Dad had the right idea – up and at 'em, blow this joint. Dean gets it, he does, like the voice said he's not worth hanging around for, shame Dad left Sam though. Not fair on Sam, that.

Sam. Yeah, he's going to have to figure out what to do about that. Part of the problem is that thinking is just so difficult, he keeps getting caught up in what the demon's voice is saying, distracted. The thought has occurred that maybe he was possessed; Sam doesn't seem to have noticed anything though. He tried the other day, to find out, didn't work though. He had waited until Sam had gone out then sprinkled himself with Holy Water and tried reciting an exorcism – nothing doing there. The more he thinks about it the less convinced he is that it means anything, maybe it's just impossible to exorcise yourself – even Dean can admit that it seems like a ridiculous idea. Should have asked Sam to do it, Dean knows that. Problem with that is that he would have to admit to Sam what's going on. Sam's got enough to worry about without thinking his brother's a loon as well as a liability.

He doesn't feel good, waiting here for Sam to finish work, doesn't feel good at all. Maybe he should have said something more to the doc, maybe. He's tired. He'll head to bed when they get in, that should help, should feel better afterwards.

* * *

The thought runs through his mind that he should know how to stop Sam from wanting to come to the hospital, should have been able to reassure him that there was no need. Dean knows the truth now, the voice told him, long, drawn-out and painful, and then it hit with the real crux of the matter, for both of them. If it was just him, Dean could live with it, face dying, but to make Sam suffer through it, no, he can't let that happen. Dean knows what he needs to do, like the voice said only he can finish it but he needs Sam out of the way to do that. 

Right now all Dean wants is some peace to figure it all out, knows he doesn't need it really, he's already figured it out, just needs space to carry out what needs to be done, but Sam isn't giving him any space. He can feel the tremors that started last night in his hand getting worse, the pain in his head getting worse and Sam just wants to talk. Then he hears it, what Sam's been saying, Dad sent money. Dean knows Sam's irritated with him, he can't help pushing it though, needing to know if Dad's okay. He can see the look of disgust on Sam's face, it says it all. The demon's voice says it shows what he really thinks of his brother. Dean knows that, can't face it anymore, heads for the bathroom.

"That's it. Make him feel guilty," the demon's voice laughs.

Dean knows that isn't what he wants to do, Sam doesn't deserve to feel guilty and certainly not on account of him, "Sorry, Sam." Dean hopes he realises how much he's sorry for. He can hear Sam's voice, pleading with him, but all Dean knows is he's got to get away, shut the door, block it all out for a while, build the wall up again.

He can't believe the flash of agony as Sam reaches across his chest to turn him round, his vision swoons and he feels a crush of pain as Sam drags him back to sit on the bed, he is vaguely aware of the crutch slipping from his grasp, his last means of escape. Sam leaves him sat on the edge of the bed and he can feel his breath hitching in and out, knows he's got to get his act together, can't do this to Sam. He opens his eyes as Sam settles on the chair in front of him, he hears the apology and knows he needs to take control, tries it, asks about Dad.

He can feel the pain in Sam's voice, he's hurting his brother, Dean has never wanted to hurt Sam. He can hear Sam's words though, they're not about Dad, well not totally, they're about him. He can hear it but it doesn't make sense, "You shouldn't…" he's let Sam down again, that's what he must be saying, he's not sure what he's done, but he knows Sam's disappointed. "…worth more than…" yes Sam, you are, you're worth so much more than this, you deserve that life, he wants to tell Sam how sorry he is, but Sam is just ploughing on, not pausing, not giving him an opportunity. He needs to tell Sam how important he is but he's not listening, not stopping. "…what he thinks…" back to Dad, yeah well, Dean knows what Dad thinks. He's got an eldest son who is a loser, a disappointment, a failure. What could he think? "…the only time he looks out is to see what's gone wrong…" Dean knows that's because he fucks up so often that's why Dad has to keep checking on him, he can't be trusted to get it right. "You let him blame you," because it's my fault, I am to blame, I let you get hurt Sam, I didn't save Jessica. "…drag you down…" at the bottom Sam, there's nowhere to drag someone like me. "… not anymore..." no more, that's right Sam, no more, I can't do it anymore. "It's over for now, Dean" Dean sighs, it's what he needed to hear, Sam's going, it's right, he should move on. The trip to the hospital that's just to make sure he can leave him, he can handle that, carry it off, be strong and then once Sam's gone, it will be over, he can let the pain go.

Sam offers him painkillers, Dean thinks it's probably a good idea, easier to pretend everything is okay when the edges are fuzzy and right now onlythe wrong things are crystal clear, only the pain. Maybe once they've kicked in, he'll be able to get it together, make believe that everything's okay. Dean knows Sam's seen the shake in his hands, wants to say it's nothing but he knows it's not true and right now he's got to be careful, needs those tablets to help him get a grip because he can feel himself spinning out of control, he's got to say something though, "Sorry, Sam". He hopes it's enough.

Sam asks about the hospital, he's got to warn him, try and play it down. He knows he sounds desperate but for Sam's sake, he's got to convince him that it's all fine, that Sam can go, he doesn't have to stay.

"I'm not leaving you, Dean." He hears Sam's voice

"_Yet!" _says the demon's voice gleefully inside Dean shivers and for once hopes that the demon really is telling the truth, but nods his understanding to Sam and tries again to get ready to go.


	4. A Waiting Game

**_There's a Way Through to the Other Side In The End

* * *

_**

**_Disclaimer_**: Supernatural doesn't belong to me, nor do Dean, Sam, or the other characters you recognise. I am making no money so please don't come looking for me.

* * *

**_Warning_**: some violence as the story progresses

**_Spoilers_** - post-end of Series 1 Devil's Trap so some passing mention of events in Season episodes such as Faith, Home, Devil's Trap etc.

**_Thanks to Rae Artemis for her support, help and 'betaing' - You're a star._**

* * *

_**Author's Note:** Thank you to everyone who has reviewed or used alerts- your support is much appreciated.__

* * *

_

**_Chapter 4 – A Waiting Game_**

Okay, so Dean was right when he said sitting around the hospital rehab unit was boring, but right now Sam, if given the choice, would happily settle for boredom. It would definitely be better than the concern he's feeling right now. He's not sure what's going on exactly but Dean has definitely been deteriorating all morning. He tried explaining that to the unit clerk but she just told him that they'd get to Dean as soon as possible. So much for working alongside a caring profession, this woman is cold and callous.

He's watching his brother who is staring aimlessly ahead and he'll admit it now, he is frightened by the changes he's seen. The tremors in his hands have got so bad, Dean clamped both hands down on his thighs. Sam's guessing he was hoping to stop the shaking and whilst that seemed to help at first, it's not working so well now, as every couple of minutes, Dean's whole body seems to flinch and shiver.

Dean, who has managed the crutches with no major problem since the day they gave them to him, fell as he got out of the car. Sam would have brushed it off if he hadn't watched his brother struggle towards the hospital entrance as if he'd only just got the crutches only to see him crash to the floor again as he went through the door. He watched as his brother accepted the wheelchair he's now sat in with barely a fight when the nurse who brought it said they'd maybe see him quicker if he was in it. Dean who hates doctors and loathes hospitals will do anything to see a doctor quicker. Sam can't work out whether he should be relieved at that or even more panicked.

Dean is silent and has been for the better part of an hour. Sam knows why but wishes Dean would say something, anything that would just stop him thinking, stop him worrying about what's happening? They were in the car when it started, just talking. Sam was hoping that maybe they were rebuilding some of the damage he'd just done by manhandling his brother, gaining some degree of forgiveness for the pain he'd caused, when each time Dean spoke he seemed to slur more of the words he was saying. Different time of day and in different circumstances and Sam might have chalked it up to too much to drink, but Dean hasn't been near a drink in weeks, so whatever is causing this, that isn't it. It came on fast too, just like the other symptoms and Dean elected to keep quiet rather than struggle on and risk embarrassing himself. So now they're waiting. Waiting because one of the doctors called in sick and the others are trying to cover the extra patients and are running late and the unit clerk won't listen to Sam that Dean needs help now, and it's long past the time of his appointment and Sam is frantic with worry and it isn't helping Dean any.

Sam's wondering if he should phone the bookstore and tell them he won't be in tomorrow because there's no way he's leaving Dean on his own at the motel like this.

Sam's worried. Dean is shutting down, physically as it's all going wrong, but he's worried that it's happening emotionally as well. Right now Sam's not sure that Dean's fighting this at all. He's never known him not fight, never known him just give up but last time he looked there was something missing from Dean's eyes. Sam figures that at this point anything is worth a try to keep Dean fighting, he needs his big brother so his big brother had better not just sit there fading away.

"Dean." He moves over to where his brother is sitting but so far he's got no reaction. "Dean?" he says again gently, resting his hand on Dean's shoulder, aware immediately of the tension roiling through his brother's body.

He moves round to crouch in front, right in Dean's line of sight and that is when he hears the barely whispered, "Help Sammy," and as he looks, he is horrified at what he sees. The front of Dean's shirt is covered in a mess of blood and gore and the pain in his face is agonised.

"Oh my god, Dean! Just hang on okay, hang on. I'm getting help. I'll be back." He sees Dean blink once slowly and wonders briefly if that is meant as acknowledgement. He reaches the corridor and starts to shout for help; the unit clerk comes hurrying up to see what the fuss is about. She's none-to-pleased with the noise. "Mr Winchester. Will you keep your voice down?" She turns to head back to her desk.

Sam follows, "No. We need help. Dean, he's bad, someone needs to look at him now. He can't wait any longer, he's dying in there."

"Mr. Winchester, as I've already explained someone will see your brother shortly"

"No! Someone needs to see him now, there's so much blood. He can't wait anymore for god's sake."

"Mr Winchester, if you don't lower your voice. I will have to call security and you will be escorted from the premises."

Sam can't take any more; he moves right up into her personal space and doesn't care if she's intimidated or frightened so long as someone comes for Dean. He doesn't care if security comes for him so long as someone saves Dean. "Get him help NOW." The woman presses a button behind the counter, "Okay that's security, now get the fucking doctor. Believe me, if my brother dies, I'm coming for you."

"Sam!" He turns at the sound of the voice and sees a woman tripping down the corridor in a short skirt and high heels. He can't place her but she certainly seems to know him. Sam can't imagine where he'd have met her in this town. It's not like he's had a social life since they've been here. The only places he's been are the hospital, the motel, the bookstore and a couple of places that sell food. "So what are you doing here?"

He blinks twice trying to work out who she is but his mouth starts to answer anyway, "It's Dean…"

"Dean, honey, where is he? How's he doing?"

It's the way she says honey that does it, he knows who she is. She was one of Dean's nurses from the ICU. "You… he needs help… the blood…"

"Dean? Blood? Okay Sam, come on, where is he? Let's see what we can do." Sam grabs her arm propelling her down to where Dean is waiting. As they turn into the room, he can see Dean has slumped to one side, struggling to keep himself from giving way completely. Sam feels a wave of guilt for thinking that Dean had stopped fighting "Okay, Dean, honey. Can you hear me? Can you open your eyes for me, honey? Let me have a peak at those lovely eyes, come on."

Sam can see Dean's struggling, his eyes are moving beneath the closed lids. He rests his hand on the back of his brother's neck, "It's okay, Dean, keep trying. I know you can do it."

* * *

"Okay Sam, they're seeing to him now, but I need you to tell me more about what happened. Okay, honey?"

"I don't know, he's just… all morning, he's just been getting worse, like he's not fighting it. Is he… what's happening to him?"

"In all honesty, Sam, I don't know, but now we've got him down here in the E.R., they'll soon get it under control. Tell me what's happened this morning; you said Dean's been getting worse. Tell me about it." She's calm and quiet as she asks, Sam thinks it's reassuring, hopes she's right, they're in the right place now; they'll get it under control.

Sam tried to explain everything that he'd seen, the tremors, the slurring, the lack of co-ordination and the blood. God there'd been so much blood, just like that night in the cabin, Dean's blood emptying out of his body, taking his life with it and Sam hadn't been able to stop it. "It was my fault. I did it."

"What Sam? What did you do, honey? What makes you think it's your fault?" She was watching the tormented young man before her, twisting and wringing his blood-covered hands. She'd seen enough of the two brothers when Dean was in ICU to know Sam would never intentionally hurt his brother, that he was, in fact, fiercely protective, she'd witnessed some spectacular arguments with the father and heard the accusations of failure Sam had levelled at him. She put her hands over his to stop the incessant agitated movement. "Sam, tell me what did you do?"

"I hurt him; I didn't want to, I tried to get him to listen but… I grabbed him across the chest, I made him sit down. He needed to listen, it was important. What he thought…it was wrong… so I made him sit and listen. It was hurting him…I wanted it to stop but I only made it worse. I hurt his chest and when I gave him the painkillers, that's when I saw the tremors, he couldn't hold the glass of water, I had to help him, he didn't say it but he thought he was going to drop it."

"It's okay, Sam. I've just got one more question. What were you two doing upstairs? Why didn't you bring Dean into ER?"

"He had an appointment, first thing this morning. He wasn't this bad when we got here. There wasn't any blood. I didn't see blood not then… not until…"

"Okay, Sam that's fine now."

"I told her."

"What? Who Sam? Who did you tell?"

"Upstairs. The clerk, I told her he needed to see someone. I told her he was getting worse. It's not too late is it?"

"Sam, Dean's in good hands now, they'll do all they can."

"He's got good hands," Sam's voice is desolate.

"Who, honey?"

"Dean, good hands. He saved me, looked after me…always. He protected me before. I was supposed to be looking out for him now, making sure he got better." His eyes are fixed on the blood on his hands, "It's his blood, I didn't do it, I didn't protect him."

She keeps one hand on his trying to still the motion and uses the other to guide his chin up until his eyes meet hers. She can see the burgeoning fear in them, "Honey, you did all you could, Dean knows that. Now let's go get you cleaned up, then I'll go find out what's happening to that brother of yours."

The fight has gone from Sam; he's lost, so she takes over for him. She leads him down the corridor to a bathroom where she gives him instructions to clean himself up. She's firm, the instructions sound like orders. She's met his Dad, knows him for the military type, she heard the 'good soldier' arguments and figures right now, Sam just needs someone else to tell him what to do, he'll be able to find his way back after the blood has gone. He follows her back to the waiting room. He can't think what to do, so he does what he's told and instead he thinks about Dean.

* * *

Sam remembers. He remembers being small and Dean looking out for him, helping him, keeping him safe. He remembers just how safe he used to feel as he fell asleep rocked against his brother's body and he remembers his dreams of Dean, tear-filled eyes as he rocked his sleeping brother. He remembers new schools, no friends, name-calling, being pushed and Dean stepping in, taking on the bullies. Sam remembers that for all the fights, all the accusations in school and at home that Dean was nothing but a troublemaker, he had never seen Dean throw the first punch or start the trouble. He also knew Dean had protected other kids too, not just his brother.

"Sam, honey."

Sam looks up, calmer now, waiting. He doesn't want to ask the question, frightened of what he might find out.

"He's okay for now. They've stopped the bleeding." She can see the relief in his eyes. "They're monitoring him closely; he's going to have to stay in though." He nods. "He's pretty much out of it at the moment but they're sending him for scans."

"Why? What?" the fear is still there, she knows and understands it.

"Precaution. At least three of the major problems this morning, could have been caused by a problem in his brain. They need to check it out."

"They checked before, when he was here, before he… There was nothing wrong then."

"They need to check now, Sam, that's all. They need to know how they can help him best, what they're dealing with." He nods his understanding. "Now it's going to be a while before you can see him so…I've brought you this." She hands him a pen and some paper and smiles at his look of confusion. "I figure you could make good use of this time. You're going to write a letter of complaint to the hospital board."

"About what?"

"The unit clerk this morning. This is a good hospital with good people working in it. What happened this morning to Dean, well it shouldn't have… People here care about our patients, someone should at least have checked in on Dean, given how worried you were, even if it was only to put both of your minds at rest but her attitude seriously endangered him. Because she didn't tell anyone, no-one looked; no-one knew how serious it was. This hospital won't want something like that to happen again, they can find someone better than her. Now later, when they're ready, they'll move Dean back up to ICU, so I'll probably see you up there when I get back."

"Thank you… and I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for now?"

"Upstairs. I didn't recognise you at first. You looked… different."

"What? Out of my uniform and with my hair down. Honey I should hope I do," she said with a laugh.

"You were leaving but you stayed. You didn't have to."

"Yeah, I did. I wasn't going to just leave you here on your own waiting for that brother of yours now was I?"

"Thank you."

She patted him on the hand. "It's okay. Now someone will be through as soon as you can see Dean and once they know exactly what's going to happen and what's caused all of this, they'll let you know. Sam, one more thing… it wasn't your fault. You grabbing him this morning, it didn't cause this okay. Now I will see you later."

* * *

_**Author's Note: **Thank you to all who have read this. If you enjoyed it, a review would be more than welcome. Good wishes to all. MS._


	5. Getting Through

**_There's a Way Through to the Other Side In The End

* * *

_**

**_Disclaimer_**: Supernatural doesn't belong to me, nor do Dean, Sam, or the other characters you recognise. I am making no money so please don't come looking for me.

* * *

**_Warning_**: some violence as the story progresses

**_Spoilers_** - post-end of Series 1 Devil's Trap so some passing mention of events in Season episodes such as Faith, Home, Devil's Trap etc.

**_Thanks to Rae Artemis for her support, help and 'betaing' - You're a star._**

* * *

_**Author's Note: **More thanks due to all those people who have encouraged me to continue.__

* * *

_

**_Chapter 5 – Getting Through_**

It's all quiet, as Sam watches Dean, except for the beeps and hums coming from the various machines attached to his brother.

'Lucky' that's what his doctor said although Dean doesn't look lucky from where Sam's standing and figures the doctor has a peculiar idea of what it means to be lucky. 'Could have been worse' they'd said, but again Sam's not really sure he can see how, unless Dean had actually died.

'Infection', 'Chest wounds', 'Blood poisoning', 'Stronger Antibiotics', 'Blood loss', the words had washed over Sam like a wave until he heard 'Hopeful'. Right now he is hanging onto that one word. The problem is Sam knows things the doctor doesn't. The chest wounds, the infection all come courtesy of a demon, a demon with a taste for Winchesters to be precise. How can he ask if the antibiotics are strong enough to overcome that without getting himself committed?

He just needs to see Dean, just check he's still there, holding on… fighting.

He takes his brother's fingers in his hand, careful so as not to dislodge the wires that connect Dean to the machines. It has to be this hand because the other has an IV attached and Sam doesn't want to cause Dean any more pain, small as it may seem in the whole scheme of things. He smoothes his brother's hair, "I'm sorry Dean. I…I thought you'd given up, I thought it wasn't you any more but… you are still fighting, I know you're fighting so hard. You can do it. You'll beat this, I know you will. I'm waiting for you. I'm not leaving here without you."

He gently lays Dean's hand down again and straightens up, "I'll be back soon, Dean, I'm not going far. I've just got to… you know…" Sam closes his eyes and wills back the sobs that want out. "I'll be back soon," he whispers as he turns to leave.

He closes the door behind him quietly and leans against the wall alongside. Six weeks ago, he stood here waiting for Dean to wake up, same room, same door, same feeling of helplessness. He stood here and listened to Dad say he was leaving and Sam couldn't stop him. Since then, Sam's heard nothing from him until the money this morning and that doesn't really count as hearing anything other than his father's guilty conscience. Sam can't forgive him for walking away from Dean again. Right now, he doesn't care if he never sees or speaks to him again, but for Dean's sake he's got to deal, because someone has got to have an answer to this.

He pushes off from the wall and heads for the exit. "Sam, honey. How are you doing?" Nurse Honey, Sam remembers that's what Dean called her before he was released last time. He stops and turns to look at her.

"I wanted to say thank you… you know… for everything this morning," he says, thinking it doesn't seem enough, the only reason Dean is hanging on now is because of the nurse stood before him. "Thank you."

"Oh! It was nothing. So how is he? That big, bad brother of yours?"

"He was still sleeping when I left him just a minute ago. That's okay, right?"

"Yeah. It's good, they've got him dosed up with all sorts in there to fight the infection and they've given him painkillers that will keep him pretty much knocked out for now. He needs some time to rest and recuperate, time to get back some of that blood he's so fond of spilling." She smiles reassuringly. "Are you staying or did I just stop you on your way home?"

"I was just going to go make some calls. I'm due into work tomorrow; I should call and say I can't make it. I should probably try and get my Dad as well."

"Sam, he's out of danger for now, you could probably manage a few hours at that job of yours. Dean said before he left last time that you were working at the bookstore down the road – you could come up in your break and check in on him. You don't want to sit here all the time, honey, just watching him sleep."

"I just want to be here if he needs me, when he wakes up, you know."

"I know Sam, you do what you think is best. Go make those phone calls and then come back and see him and see what you think then."

"Yeah. Thanks I'll be back soon." He turns and heads out the door.

It doesn't take long to call his boss at the bookstore and she's fine about him not working a full shift, tells him if he can make it in for a couple of hours to give the others a break, she'd appreciate it, but to remember that his brother is more important and that they'll manage whatever happens. He'd like to put her in touch with his Dad because his priorities seem to be a lot less clear.

Sam figures he can't put it off any longer and dials his Dad's number. He takes a calming breath because he's got to be careful what he says, he's got to put Dean's needs first above what he actually wants to say to his father. It goes to voicemail, Sam wonders if he ever answers for anyone, thenremembers that he used to answer for Pastor Jim and Caleb, it didn't go to voicemail for them. He'd never spoken about needing to get back in touch with them to return missed calls. With them gone, Sam wonders if it's even worth Dad keeping a phone now, certainly makes it easier for him now, he'll know he isn't going to pick it up when it rings. It proves Sam's point; his Dad's priorities are screwed. He keeps his voice calm though as he leaves a message, "Dad, it's Sam. When the demon hurt Dean, well his chest and his blood, it's infected, poisoned and he's not healing right. The doctors have him on their strongest stuff but I can hardly tell them what really caused it, can I? So you have to get back to me with some ideas of how we can treat this or Dean's going to die." He cuts off.

Sam decides he can't hang around waiting to see if his Dad calls back and that it's worth trying a few other people just to see if they have any ideas. He starts with Bobby. "Hey Bobby. Listen thanks for dropping that envelope in… Yeah… Yeah it's enough to tide us over… Actually it's Dean I'm calling you about… no, not so good… blood poisoning, the lacerations from the demon are infected… strongest antibiotics apparently… I'm worried it's not going to be enough… I just wondered if you could offer any suggestions… Holy Water… Cleansing Herbs… Yeah I'll give Missouri a call thanks… Thanks Bobby, sure yeah come and visit, he's back in the hospital now, pretty much out of it at the moment with everything that happened and all the drugs they're pumping into him, but you know him, he'd probably appreciate a visit in a couple of days. One other thing, do you know where Dad is? I'm trying to get him. No… okay… no he didn't, he left before Dean came round… yeah we had words but you know Dean, he was worried about him… No, nothing. Probably didn't even know he was still alive… Yeah I will, I better get back to him now. All being well, we'll see you later in the week, give me a call and I'll let you know how he's doing, whether he's up to it or not. Thanks"

Sam looks at his watch and tries to decide whether it's too late to call Missouri. He dials the number and hopes she doesn't mind too much. "Yeah, hey Missouri. It's Sam, Sam Winchester, yeah. I'm sorry to call you so late…I need some help…Dean's…" Missouri's voice pushes Sam back to the edge of the precipice he's been on since they rushed Dean away this morning. He tries to keep it under control and finish the call but even he can hear how tight his voice has become, "Dean's in trouble. He's really sick… Bobby said I should call you, you might know something that would help… The demon slashed his chest…the doctors are saying the wounds are infected and that maybe he's got blood poisoning… Dad? No, he's not here… haven't seen him in weeks… he left almost as soon as he was on his feet after the accident… No, he's not seen Dean since; he was still unconscious when Dad left… Yes, I am angry… I'm sorry Missouri, but I can't believe he'd do that to us… No, Dean isn't handling it very well… you know Dean… he's worried about Dad… wasted energy in my opinion… yeah, sorry… Tomorrow? How will you get here? … Okay… Okay… We'll see you then."

Sam disconnected and headed back into the hospital to his brother's room.

* * *

Sam had watched the sunrise from his position next to Dean's bed. The colours had been beautiful. Sam supposes it's a shame that he and Dean have seen plenty of sunsets without having the time to appreciate their beauty but sunrises are something they've not seen much of.

Sam's reached a decision while he's been sitting and watching Dean sleep. When this is over, when Dean is well again or at least well enough to be back on his feet and out of hospital again, they are going to take some time to appreciate things more. Sam knows that Dean will fight him on this but he's going to stand firm, no way he's backing down, not now, not after all of this. He's nearly lost Dean too many times. He knows what Dean will say, they need to hunt to keep other people safe, so that other people don't have to suffer like they did, other children don't have their childhoods wrenched away in the space of a breath. It's one of the things he most admires about Dean, the selflessness that means he will put his life on the line for total strangers if he thinks he can stop something bad happening to them. Yeah, he knows he's there with Dean all the way now, but that's it, he's there now. Not before. Sam knows he left Dean, hurt him, it wasn't supposed to be like that but… Then when he came back, Sam was so close to being like his father, just a step away from turning into the same kind of man as John Winchester, but Dean rescued him from the brink, brought some sanity back into his life, a purpose worth living this life for. Revenge only gets you so far before you burn out and lose sight of what's important, that's why Dad can't see that he should be here with Dean now.

Sam's decided they could have more than just a life of hunting; they have earned more than just this. Sam wants and Dean deserves something other than a life of pain and constant struggle and fighting. They have a right to enjoy the world, the real world, the one everyone else lives in and Sam is determined on this, he's going to stand firm, he's not going to let Dean plough endlessly down this path to destruction, he doesn't care what Dad thinks and he's not going to let Dean be swayed either. Maybe they can't have normal, maybe Dean's right and they are freaks, but Sam's sure there has to be something better than what they've got right now. They won't give up hunting because Sam acknowledges that Dean's right, people shouldn't have to suffer like they did and they can help restore the balance, but it won't be the only thing in their life because they're in danger of dying without ever having had a real life.

Nurse Honey comes into check on Dean before her shift ends, "Hey there boys, how are we all this morning?" she smiles at Sam.

"He hasn't woken up yet. Not at all."

"Sam, don't worry. There's still time for him to wake up on his own before we need to worry. He's been through a lot; his body needs time to recover. All the signs are good and strong at the moment. So chin up, okay."

Sam nods and she pats his shoulder on her way out, "Oh and Sam, don't you go forgetting to get yourself something to eat either." Sam gives the barest of acknowledgements until she stops and turns at the door, "You'll be no good to him if you make yourself sick."

"I'll go soon, just... he might wake up any time."

"Go now and you might be back before he wakes up," she says.

Sam stands, thinking maybe she's right, the quicker he comes back the better. He can't go without just touching his brother's hand and running his fingers over Dean's hair one more time, making sure he's still there, still fighting this thing, still Dean. "I won't be long Dean," he says even though he doesn't think Dean is listening.

* * *

When he comes back, he carries on watching Dean sleep. Another nurse stops by to check on Dean, smiles and chats amiably, he tries to remember what name Dean had given her last time. Rosie – that was what he'd called her, Sam was never sure why. Sam's fairly sure that Dean hadn't called any of the nurses by their real names last time, but had made a name up for each one, a name that reflected some part of their personality, of who they really were. They'd all laughed at their names and smiled, seemingly touched by the attention he had given to finding out enough about them to give them a new name.

She leaves him some magazines to read on a shelf near the door, "there if you want them," she says, "there's a couple your brother might like too. He knows a lot about classic cars, so I figured maybe..." Sam remembers now, this nurse had taken some charming before, not because she was cynical or unkind, but because she'd been shy and quiet, efficient and reassuring in her role as nurse, but unnerved in the glare of Dean's flirting, unsure how to take the brothers' banter, disconcerted by the arguments she'd seen between Sam and his father, used to the quiet reverence of the majority of visitors to the ICU, but Dean had slowly worked his magic, reassured her that it was okay to laugh, to find humour in the horror that had happened, to relax and let his flirting slide as a friendly way to pass the time, no intent and no malice.

"Thanks" he says because what more can he add to express to any of these people just how much he appreciates the kindnesses they fit into their day. They don't just see to the medical needs of their patients, they have taken the time to find out about them as individuals, to motivate and encourage them in their recovery. They take the time to reassure the family that stand by the beds, to explain what is happening for the patient and the loved ones, what needs to be worried about and what doesn't.

Sam sits and waits. He waits for Dean to wake up.

He's lost track of how long he's been waiting, when he hears a commotion outside, not loud or overbearing, not his father he registers, just someone new arriving. The young nurse pokes her head round the door again, "Mr Winchester?"

He turns to face her, "Me or Sleeping Beauty here?"

"Well either, but as you're the only one awake…"

"In which case, it's Sam. We'll leave Mr Winchester as my Dad shall we?"

Nurse Rosie smiles, "Sam, there are some people here to see you and your brother. Do you want them to come in or would you rather speak to them down in the waiting room?"

Missouri. Relief washes over Sam, somewhere in the back of Sam's mind he registers that she says people, but he can't think who else it would be so he sticks with it being Missouri for now. "I'll come and speak to her first, but…" He looks back at Dean, not wanting to leave him now, because surely Dean's got to wake up soon.

"I'll stay with Dean if you like. I've just finished the jobs I was doing so I've got a few minutes before I need to start doing anything else."

"Are you sure? I don't want him to wake up on his own. Thank you." She ushers him out and points him in the direction of where Missouri is waiting.

Sam walks quickly down and is not surprised to see Missouri sitting there, he is surprised by the person sitting next to her. "Jenny? What are you doing here?" he says without thinking.

"Boy, where are your manners? You've been spending too much time with that brother of yours; he talks before engaging his brain. Don't tell me you're going the same way?" The reprimand comes in Missouri's familiar tones,

"Sorry. It's a surprise that's all; I wasn't expecting to see you here. It's good to see you. How are Sari and Richie?"

Jenny smiles, "They're fine. How's Dean doing?"

The smile falls from Sam's face, "He's holding on. He's still asleep. He hasn't woken up since…"

"He always looked like he could do with a decent night's sleep. Knowing him, he's just catching up all at once." Missouri's voice is light and gently teasing. As Sam looks to her, he sees her smile at him expectantly. "Don't you go getting all morose on us, Samuel Winchester? No wonder your brother ain't waking, he don't want to see that miserable face is what it'll be."

Sam nods and attempts an acceptable smile, "So Jenny…" he doesn't know how to ask what she's doing here without incurring further wrath from Missouri.

"Missouri called and asked if I could drive her here, it seemed like the least I could do after… well after everything you did for me before. I've left my two with friends. We've really settled in now, the kids are happy and well, I have you and Dean to thank for that so…"

"Thanks" Sam feels like he's been saying that a lot lately.

"Well, Sam, shall we go see this brother of yours? See if we can't point him in the right direction for getting well again."

"Sure, his room's just down here." Sam leads Missouri down towards Dean's room, leaving Jenny for now.

As Sam opens the door to Dean's room, he hears the nurse's voice, a momentary flash of betrayal and disappointment cross his mind that she hasn't called him when Dean woke up and that he wasn't there at the right time. Then he realises she isn't talking with Dean, she's talking to him, in fact, reading to him from one of the classic car magazines she'd brought in earlier. He relaxes and smiles, "That won't wake him up you know."

"Sam," she says, "I just thought it was something he'd like."

"Exactly, he won't wake up for that – it's too much like one of his fantasies – a beautiful girl who's willing to talk to him about cars and even better, the right type of cars – he'll think you're his dream date!"

She smiles, "Don't be silly" as she makes her way out of the door, with a rosy hint to her cheeks. Sam knows now why Dean called her Rosie, he'd lay bets that Dean would have kept that rosy tint to her cheeks most of the time.

"Poor girl. You and your brother!" Missouri tuts at Sam before moving over to take a good look at Dean, "Poor boy, they've messed you up good and proper this time, haven't they? And it's no good thinking like that, no good listening to the rubbish, Dean. Listen carefully and you'll hear the voice in the darkness, the one that'll bring you home." She smoothes her hand over his hair and Sam thinks how strange it is that so many of Dean's visitors feel the need to do that. He knows he does it, he's seen the nurses do it and now Missouri – almost as if they can feel an energy that is purely Dean by doing it. He wonders about what Missouri is saying, wonders if it means anything to Dean, wonders if Missouri will speak this way, this kindly when Dean wakes up.

* * *

**_Author's Note: Thank you for your continued support in reading this. Reviews are welcome._**


	6. It's what is on the inside that counts

**_There's a Way Through to the Other Side In The End

* * *

_**

**_Disclaimer_**: Supernatural doesn't belong to me, nor do Dean, Sam, or the other characters you recognise. I am making no money so please don't come looking for me.

* * *

**_Warning_**: some violence as the story progresses 

**_Spoilers_** - post-end of Series 1 Devil's Trap so some passing mention of events in Season episodes such as Faith, Home, Devil's Trap etc.

**_Thanks to Rae Artemis for her support, help and 'betaing' - You're a star._**

* * *

**_Chapter 6 – It's what is on the inside that counts_**

Missouri has some ideas but needs to talk to Sam where they won't be interrupted and where they can work out how to follow through without upsetting the hospital staff. Jenny agrees to sit with Dean for a while. Sam wonders what Dean would make of that, he figures he'd probably be embarrassed by all the fuss, for much as Dean seems to like to be the centre of attention, he likes it on his own terms and this is most definitely not the terms he'd set.

Missouri and Sam take a walk outside the hospital. Sam feels like it's the first air he's inhaled in forever that doesn't have that disinfectant tang, without the underlying sensation of possible death. "Sam," Missouri's voice interrupts his thoughts, "Dean's still there, but he's going to need a lot of help to really find his way back." Sam looks at her with a slightly dazed expression, wondering what she's trying to tell him. "He's… this is difficult to explain, Sam. It's more than just the physical that's keeping him like this," she continues, "I can help with the physical, there's herbs and they'll help, we'll have to work out how to do it without the hospital knowing but we can do something. But there's other stuff too, he's been hurt."

Sam wonders what precisely Missouri is trying to say, "You said we could…"

"Listen boy. The hurt I'm talking about isn't physical, it isn't something we can just take away or cover up. It's something that he's going to need to deal with, it's emotional and your brother doesn't like to do that, so he's going to need people, in particular you, to help him but knowing Dean, he'll try to bury it or hide it. You can't let him do that, not this time, there's too much damage been done. If he does it, he'll just keep getting sick like this, we'll be able to fight the physical aspects for a while but eventually it will just wear his body down."

Sam had come to know Dean. Over the last year, Sam had seen hints of some of the hurts Dean had hidden inside and the wall that he'd built round to protect himself.

"I need you to tell me, what happened to put him in hospital," it is only when she asks the question that Sam realises Missouri doesn't actually know what had happened at the cabin and has only a vague idea of the crash. "Sam, what's going on between you boys and your Dad? I need you to tell me that as well." She doesn't tell Sam but she can feel his anger and upstairs she had felt his brother's insecurity.

He hates it, having to relive that night at the cabin and the mad dash for the hospital and the collision with the semi. He sees the horror on Missouri's face as he describes what had happened, she questions quite specifically what the demon had said to Dean as if she knows it was significant. Sam tries to tiptoe round the edge, hinting rather than telling exactly. This isn't something Dean is going to want other people to know about, until Missouri stops him with the words, "Sam, I know this is not something Dean would want talked about, but Dean's sick and what was said to him isn't helping, if I'm right it's part of what is making him sick or at least stopping him being able to fight it, so tell me."

"The demon, while it was pretending to be Dad, said it was proud of Dean and he knew it wasn't Dad because it was proud, he believes Dad would be furious at him for saving me. Then when we knew what it was, it said that we didn't need Dean, not like he needed us, it told him that I was Dad's favourite and that Dad never cared for him, like he cared for me. Then… then it tore him up, it didn't touch him, just ripped into him somehow and the blood… Missouri, there was so much blood… I couldn't stop it, I just watched…"

Missouri puts her hand on Sam's arm and leads him to sit on a bench. He sits down and leans forward, elbows on his knees, face in his hands, drawing great heaving breaths trying to compose himself. "Come on Sam, tell me the rest. It'll help you too."

"He…he wouldn't want anyone to know."

"Sam, we need to help him. This is just me. Tell me."

"He begged, he begged Dad to make it stop. He was in so much pain and the blood was just pouring from his front and his mouth and… he was virtually unconscious and still he was held against the wall before the demon stopped, before Dad seemed to get control for a moment and even then, it was me he let go, not Dean. It wasn't until I shot Dad that the demon let go of Dean and he fell to the floor and all he was worried about was Dad. After all that, he still worried about Dad, not himself. He stopped me shooting Dad, killing Dad and the demon."

"Sam, I met you and your brother a couple of times when you were just a baby and again when you came back to Lawrence last year and the couple of times since. One thing has never changed. Your brother has always wanted you and your Dad to be safe and well. He has always feared that after your Mom died, that he wouldn't be able to protect the two of you. Those times when you were little, he was only four or five, he wouldn't even remember it, he didn't used to talk then, not really. The only things he ever said were things that you needed or things that John needed. Your Dad didn't realise that for a long time. Dean… he used to know if you needed feeding, changing or to get some sleep or even just to be held, he was always there hovering. He used to say the same things about your Dad, bring him things to eat, try to take the bottles away when he thought your Dad was trying to get drunk. John used to complain that Dean would move the knives and the guns when he wasn't looking, Dean didn't seem to want them in the room, want anyone touching them, John never understood, but I did. There were times when the fear radiated out of your brother, even at that young age; he was frightened that your Dad would use them to kill himself and not to hunt the demon. There were times when your brother was right that is what John would have done, if he'd been able to find them, there were times when you and your brother weren't enough to keep him here and keep him fighting. Those were the times your brother hid the knives and guns and your Dad's desire to leave would be replaced with anger, anger at your brother for interfering, but once that anger was there, your brother knew it would keep your Dad fighting and Dean would always say that you needed something and your Dad would go and look out for you. He never once asked for anything for himself."

"He asked this time…"

"Tell me what happened after, Sam."

"The demon escaped." It sounded final, what more was there to say.

"Then, Sam, what happened then…?"

"I helped Dad to the car, he complained all the time, that we hadn't finished it, that our priorities were wrong, that I shouldn't have listened to Dean. Then I went back for Dean, I had to half drag-half carry him to the car, he was so nearly dead but he wouldn't give in because I said to him I still needed him. I put him in the car and I started to drive to the hospital and Dad didn't look at him once, didn't ask if he was hanging on, didn't even acknowledge he was on the back seat, just said we should have finished it, that we were wrong. Dean was listening all the time and then the semi hit. Missouri, I don't know why Dad is even alive, the semi hit where he was sitting, he should have been dead and somehow, god knows how, he got out of it virtually uninjured, he broke his arm, had mild whiplash – I had worse, his right leg was badly twisted, bruised and swollen but even it hadn't broken. Nobody could account for it, guardian angel they said. He had a nasty bump on his head and a concussion, that kept him out of it for a couple of days but then as soon as he could stand he checked himself out and found a motel. Why does he get to get out okay and Dean's still…" Sam swallows, tries to bite back the anger at the injustice and continues, "The hospital still had Dean so sedated that he couldn't wake up, he was in and out of surgery, they had to fix up his chest and his legs. He was going to be in so much pain that they kept him out because they didn't want him to fight it and he was connected to these machines and god, Missouri, it's been horrible."

"I know, Sam, I know." She could feel the anguish in the young man's heart and wondered at the strength in these two men that they continued to fight so much for each other.

"He didn't go in, not once. We fought and it made no difference. Not once, did Dad go into Dean's room. He would stop by the hospital every day, get his wounds checked, his rehab sorted, he would ask the nurses or doctors how Dean was doing and he would argue with me, but he didn't once talk to Dean. I know Dean was out of it, he wouldn't have known but…"

"Yes, Sam."

"Then Dad left, just went and nothing since. I'm… I'm so angry Missouri. I don't understand it, the only way it can make any sense is if what the demon said is true and even Dad… tell me Missouri, does Dad really have so little love for Dean? Everything…his whole life… Dean has sacrificed everything for what Dad wanted and I wonder why. I would have thought that at the least Dad could…"

"Sam, we need to think about Dean now, not your Daddy's failings… we all make mistakes sometimes."

"Mistakes? You are kidding me. I phoned him, I phoned him yesterday before I phoned Bobby, before you. He hasn't even bothered to return my call yet – nearly thirty hours later and nothing. He doesn't care about us at all."

"It's hard for him Sam."

"What do you think it's been like for me? What about Dean? If anyone has the right to complain I think it's Dean and he… he just sucks it up and lets it eat away and won't criticise."

"That's what we need to sort out. We can't change what's happened, we probably can't change your Daddy either, child, but we can help your brother. We need to get rid of that wall he has inside, you need to be that wall for a while, you need to get him to admit to some of the pain, just a little at a time, you need to cushion him from any more blows."

They talk for a while longer, work out the times that the hospital check on Dean's injuries and redress the wounds, how they can best apply the salves that Missouri will make, how they can help Dean find his way back. With ideas and plans in place, they make their way back to Dean and Jenny.

After a few minutes with the three of them around Dean's bed, Missouri suggests that Jenny and Sam go to get something to eat, leave her and Dean in peace. Jenny nods and guides Sam out, already asking him questions to distract him from the pain she can see as he watches his brother sleep.

* * *

Once they've gone, Missouri sits down close to the bed and takes Dean's IV-free hand in hers and runs her other hand through his hair, gently soothing and reaches her mind out, looking for Dean. 

She 'sees' a fleeting glance of him, he flickers in and out of view, a shadow of his own essence. "Dean" she calls to him. He wavers and looks in her direction, then turns away. Mentally she extends, trying to coax him back, "Dean, honey, it's Missouri" she wonders if he can hear her over the other voices she can hear. She is quiet and listens, she recognises some of the voices, hears John loud and overbearing, Sam, unhappy and frustrated, Pastor Jim, disappointed, there is another voice too, almost like John's but insidious in a way none of the others are. She hears a whisper too, it's too quiet to be heard properly over the others, so Missouri blocks the others out, wishing as she does so that she could do the same for Dean, the whisper is what he needs to hear, the whisper is Mary, "I am so proud of you, Dean. You're such a good boy, a great big brother. Sammy's so lucky to have a brother like you." She wishes she was surprised by John's voice but she's known John Winchester long enough to know that when his Mary died, he reverted to his marine training, he forgot about the love and softness for his children Mary had taught him and that Dean had over the years borne the brunt of it, had, as far as he could, protected Sam from it. She understands Sam's voice, the voice of a child who doesn't know better, a child who has every right to complain at the lack of justice in his world, but a child who has complained to the wrong person, complained to the one who will take it to heart thinking it his failure when he had done nothing but the best he could. She is confused by the Pastor's voice; Jim had always been a good man, a man who had challenged John on his treatment of his boys and Dean in particular. She tuned the others out and listened to find out why Dean had believed him to be disappointed. She saw a fleeting glimpse of tellings-off for misdemeanours, bad language, an untidy room on a long stay at the Pastor's, teasing his brother, nothing to warrant the pain from the Pastor's disappointment, then she's sees it,

'_I'm not good enough, Pastor Jim. I wanted to be but I'm not…' his eyes had been brimming with tears, tears that didn't fall. 'I'm not good enough, I don't deserve them.'_

'_Dean, you are good enough, but sometimes the tests God sends will be more than we can manage on our own and sometimes we make the wrong decisions and things go badly but it's what's in here that counts,' he'd pointed at the young boy's heart. 'In your heart is goodness.'_

Missouri sees that the Pastor was never disappointed in Dean, only ever disappointed for him, disappointed that he'd never had something more, something better but that Dean had sensed the disappointment and in his perpetually vulnerable state as a child had always believed that he was the cause of the disappointment, his own inadequacies, had always believed that his heart and his intentions weren't good enough. She could only try to show him the truth of that for the Pastor would never be able to set the record straight until Dean reached the other side and Missouri prayed that it wouldn't be anytime soon, but she knew Death was lurking, waiting to see if there was a soul, too tired to fight any longer, that he could capture. She was going to make sure that while Dean was too tired to fight that she and Sam would fight for him, bring him back. She withdrew from his mind to gather her thoughts.

"Dean, boy, you've got to start listening to me. You've got to listen to the grown-up Sam, not the little one you remember, he's big now, but he still needs you though honey."

She closes her eyes and tries again to reach Dean. This time she hears the other voice, the one she can't place, "they don't need you", "You're no good, just a disappointment", "he nearly died", "she died". Missouri may never have heard the voice before, but now she knows, it's Dean's memory of the Demon, that's why it sounds so much like John. She hurries forward, she needs to find Dean. She looks round, she sees him, he's a child here inside, the same child he was when she first met him, trapped in the time after his mother's death.

"Dean, sweetie" she calls him, "come here a minute. Just for a moment."

"I've got to find Sammy. Momma wants me to look after him and I can't find him."

"I know where he is Dean, come to me."

"I've lost him, I didn't look after him well enough, he went away, Daddy's angry with me. Momma will be unhappy now."

"You didn't lose him, Dean. Sammy went away for a bit when he was grown but he's back now, he's looking for you. He thinks you're lost."

"I… Am I lost? I don't know where I am. What should I do?"

"Come to me Dean and we'll find Sam together."

"Dad will be mad, I haven't done well enough. I should have been better."

"Dean, you did well. You were the best you could ever be; better than your Daddy ever had the right to ask for. Come with me Dean."

"I can't."

"Come on Dean" her mental voice is quiet, reassuring, soothing, "it'll be okay. We just need you to come back."

Suddenly the image changes and she sees the grown Dean, curled up where the child had been, tears on his cheeks, echoes of the tears she had seen on the child. She steps towards him and he curls tighter to himself. "Dean, listen for my voice, follow me and we'll find Sam." She retreats slowly, watching, hoping for a sign that Dean will follow. She smiles gently as she sees him look up at her with a faint glimmer of hope. "Sam's this way, Dean, come on." She sees him struggle to stand, knows that even here, he can feel all his injuries. She sees him slowly step towards her, offers her hand to him and waits.

* * *

Missouri hasn't managed to coax Dean far when she becomes aware of Sam and Jenny returning. "Dean, hang on, wait for us, Sam and I will come for you," and with that she has to leave him and return her awareness to the hospital room. 

When Sam and Jenny enter the room, she is sitting by his bed looking expectantly at the door. "So how was lunch?" she says.

"Not bad for hospital food," says Sam, "although there's something quite worrying in the fact that I know enough about hospital food to compare."

Jenny says, "Not bad but yeah, hospital food says it all really. We brought you something Missouri. It's not much but…"

Missouri smiles, "Thank you, that's very considerate of you. Particularly as I'm going to ask you if you could do something else for me now."

"Sure it's no problem."

"Could you get me some shopping? I've got a few ideas of things that might help Dean, if you could get them for me and maybe find somewhere for us to stay tonight, we should be good to head back tomorrow if it all goes well here tonight."

"You could have our room at the motel; I've pretty much been staying here since Dean's been re-admitted. I don't want him to be on his own and the nurses seem just about okay with it, so long as I stay out of their way when they ask and I don't cause a fuss."

"That would be ideal; it also gives me somewhere to make up what we need. So Jenny if I give you the list, is that okay?"

"I'll set off now and see the three of you later. Bye Dean," She leans over towards his sleeping form before waving to Missouri and Sam as she leaves.

"She's a good girl," says Missouri. Sam nods in agreement but what he really wants to ask is whether Missouri has worked out anything more to help Dean. He turns his attention back to his brother, running his hand through Dean's hair again. "Sam?" She waits until he looks at her, "Why do you do that?"

He looks confused until she gestures to the hand resting in Dean's hair; he's almost surprised to see it there, "Um. I don't really know. It's just… I don't know, it's kind of silly, I guess. It's like I can feel he's there, like not just his body but Dean himself."

"Good."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I was hoping you would say that. I was hoping that you could feel Dean there. I'm going to tell you something now but I need you to let go of Dean for the minute and then you're going to help me help Dean find his way back."

"Oh." Sam's slightly taken aback at the suggestion that Dean needs to find his way back, it makes it sound like he's lost.

"Your brother is confused, so much has happened and right now, all he's aware of is pain, most of it emotional, and he can only remember a lot of bad things that have happened in your lives. He's not sure about hanging on and fighting, he's trying to do it, but he thinks he's lost you."

"Why? Why would he think that?"

"He thinks he's let everyone down. I'm going to show you a way in to help him but you need to prepare yourself for some of the things you'll hear and what you might see."

"What do you mean?"

"Dean is replaying things that have happened, things he can remember, but they're not good things Sam, they are times when things have gone wrong, things he thinks are his fault. A lot of them aren't his fault, it's just his perception but it's painful for him. If you go to find him, you'll see things you won't like."

"Like what?"

"Your Dad, Pastor Jim, the Demon and… well I can't sugar-coat this… you."

"Me? What am I doing?"

"Think back over your life, Sam. Have you ever criticised or complained that something Dean has done wasn't good enough? Or that something about your life wasn't what you wanted – something that maybe Dean feels he should have been able to change for you?"

"Well, yeah. But I never really meant it or not overall, hell, everybody has arguments sometimes, I've said rash things I didn't really mean, we got over it and moved on. He said things too." Sam knows he's sounding like he's trying to defend himself.

"Yes, you did move on and I'm sure he did say things too. And lots of them will have been forgotten but Sam… Dean didn't forget them all and for some he still feels like he let you down, like he should have been able to do more for you."

Sam moves back towards the bed, a look of sorrow clear on his face, "Oh Dean…" he begins as he reaches for his brother again.

"No, wait, please Sam."

"You say Dad's in there too, is it the same with him? All the times Dean thinks he let Dad let him down?"

"Yes," Missouri answers sadly, "That will be harder to fix, because there's a lot of things that your Dad said and I know your Dad, there won't be many good memories, we might have to dig back to before your momma died to try to find them."

"You said Pastor Jim as well. I always thought Pastor Jim and Dean got on well, Dean seemed to like staying there, he always tried to really make him proud, he'd have done anything for the Pastor when he was a teenager."

"I know and Jim would be upset to know that Dean thinks he's let him down. I'm hoping we'll be able to fix that because I know that Dean's view has been tainted, tainted by other things that have happened and by his belief that he does let people down, particularly people who are important to him. It isn't about what was Jim's real opinion. Jim always spoke about the good things in Dean, he always worried about him, more than he ever needed to with you, because he knew you'd got Dean looking out for you, he always worried that Dean had no-one, particularly when you were too young and again when you left."

"I remember Dean asking Dad if we could stay with the Pastor, finish up our schooling. We had spent the summer with him, it was a good summer. Dean had actually spent loads of time studying, Pastor Jim helped him out, borrowing study books and stuff like that, he caught up loads. He would have done well if… if things had been different… he never finished school, you know that Missouri, he never got to finish. Dad told him his priorities were screwed, so he dropped out altogether."

"Okay, Sam. I think I've said enough. You remember lots of these things, lots of these events, you might see or hear bits of them, they might be jumbled up, the people might be not quite how you remember them. There might be others in there as well. We've got to try to show Dean some of the good things and help him lay the bad to rest. I want you to follow my example, but when I tell you to help him, do what you think he needs. I trust you to know, to be able to work it out – don't back off just because he might tell you to. He doesn't know what's best right now. I want to try and lead him back towards the light, help him get ready to wake up. Now pull up that other chair and sit here beside me."

Sam sits beside Missouri and feels again the draw to run his fingers through his brother's hair. Missouri nods, giving him approval and as he lifts his hand to Dean's head, Missouri takes his other hand in one of hers, using her other one to hold Dean's fingers gently. "Close your eyes Sam and look for me, open your mind."

Sam gasps as he finds Missouri, knows it's her. He listens before turning to her to say, "The voices, they're incessant, who are they all?"

"I don't know about all of them Sam, I've told you what I know."

"What they're saying, it's all about things he's done wrong! Is this what it's like for Dean all the time?"

"I don't think it's always like this, just since the accident maybe. I think the rest of the time; it's only maybe occasional, some of them might be there all the time, I can't be sure, I get the feeling your Dad's voice will be there a lot of the time. But we haven't got time to stand here chatting, we need to find your brother." Her voice is soothing and calming in Sam's mind. Then he hears her start to call "Dean", "Dean, come on sweetie, I found Sam for you."

Sam starts to look round. "Dean, come on man, where are you? I need you Dean," he calls. There is a flash, a moment of Dean before he vanishes again. Sam leads Missouri in pursuit.

He sees him again, but he's younger now. This is the Dean from his dreams, tears streaming and rocking the baby in his arms. He walks slowly over and hears the familiar litany "He'll be back… sssh…. Baby Sammy is okay, Daddy will come home. I got you Baby until he's back."

"Dean?" the child looks up at him, fear in his brimming eyes. "It's okay, Dean." He moves alongside him and sits down, not yet touching. "You've done a good job, Dean, looking after the baby." Sam puts aside his own embarrassment at the thought of a chick flick moment with a brother who hates them, about the fact that he's telling his brother he did well looking after himself and gently, slowly, carefully Sam puts an arm round this child-like version of his brother's shoulder and draws him gradually in towards his side, cautious not to touch the baby in his arms. He feels the tension in the body next to his, wonders why Dean is trapped as a five year old in his mind.

Sam looks up at Missouri who nods her encouragement. When he looks back, the baby has gone, but his brother is still curled into his side. "Are you ready to come home, Dean?" he asks. He gets no response but the child in his arm seems slightly older, maybe about eight. Sam wonders what else will come to torment Dean, but for now is grateful that Dean's essence recognises him enough to know he's safe.

* * *


	7. Finding a Light in the Darkness

**_There's a Way Through to the Other Side In The End

* * *

_**

**_Disclaimer_**: Supernatural doesn't belong to me, nor do Dean, Sam, or the other characters you recognise. I am making no money so please don't come looking for me.

* * *

**_Warning_**: some violence as the story progresses 

**_Spoilers_** - post-end of Series 1 Devil's Trap so some passing mention of events in Season episodes such as Faith, Home, Devil's Trap etc.

* * *

**_Author's Note: As always a thank you to Rae Artemis for her support and beta of the story but a special thank you for all the panic attacks about you know what thatyou've countered with your kind messages - I'll be gone soon so you'll get some peace._** **_

* * *

_**

**_Chapter 7 – Finding a Light in the Darkness_**

Sam is sitting alone, contemplating. Actually, he's not strictly speaking alone, Dean is physically here, if not mentally or emotionally and that makes Sam feel even more alone. Right now, he'd like to be somewhere else, somewhere he wouldn't have to face the prospect of rebuilding Dean. What he'd actually like is to be somewhere Dean never got this broken; somewhere he hadn't played a part in the breaking. He figures it pretty much sucks being Dean and he owes it to his brother to help him get through this. He hasn't fully worked out how yet.

Missouri's gone with Jenny back to the motel to mix up the ingredients she'd asked Jenny to pick up for her. She said she'll be back later.

Sam has tried to 'see' into Dean once since she'd gone, but he couldn't get it to work. He's half-inclined to think it's a good thing that he can't just tap into his brother's psyche any time he's in the mood, but right now he wants to just get on and start fixing Dean. Missouri has warned him that it's tiring, but at this moment in time, Sam feels like watching Dean sleep is tiring, not knowing if he can get his brother back is exhausting. He wants Dean to wake up and just _be_ Dean, hell, he wants to just stand up and shake him till he wakes up.

Sam hasn't worked out what he feels exactly about his view into Dean's mind. He found the amount of hurt and self-loathing frightening. He knows the self-recrimination he feels at his own part in creating it is counter-productive . He reckons the best thing he can do is to convince himself that by helping Dean now, he can assuage his own guilt.

Missouri left him with instructions to keep talking to Dean, remind him of good times, things that went well and why Sam thinks he's a good brother. She said to be specific and unequivocal; Dean needs it spelling out loud and clear, no room for misunderstanding.

Sam talked non-stop for the first couple of hours after she'd left, until his throat was sore with one-sided conversation and he just felt bone-weary at the lack of response from Dean. He knew it would take more than just a couple of reminders of things that had been good to overcome the amount of hurt that Dean was living with and that was when the anger had washed over him; anger at the demon for the physical and emotional damage it had caused, anger at Dad for years of neglect and subjugation. Sam knew that the greatest part of the damage had been done by his Dad. It had never been about the physical damage done, sure Dad had slapped them both from time to time, punishment for misdemeanours, but that had never scarred Dean. It was the years of disapproval, of never quite making the grade, never quite being accepted, the not being good enough, the being made to do things before he was old enough. The image of a five year old Dean, alone but for the baby in his arms would haunt Sam, a child not old enough to be alone was not only left, but left to care for a younger one, left knowing that he had lost one parent with no idea if or when the other would return. He'd heard Dad's voice drunkenly shouting when he'd sat down in Dean's memory with his brother, "Stop snivelling Dean. You're a big boy now, you've got to look after your brother and if you're crying like a baby, how are you going to be able to do that properly? Mom's not coming back, so you'd better sort yourself out. I haven't got time to be dealing with this. You promised your Momma and me before Sammy was born that you were gonna be a good boy and look out for your brother, so you're gonna break that promise to your Momma now she's gone?" He'd look round wanting to shut his father up, tell him to get over it, get out of the bottle he'd been hiding in and look, really look at the damage he was doing to Dean, Dean who had had silent tears tracking down his face but didn't murmur a sound, just rocked the baby and when Dad went silent, the litany of 'don't worry baby' had started. Sam had wanted to scream and punch and fight anything to break the cycle that showed him that his brother had been almost grateful for the times when his Dad shouted at him, because then and only then did he know his father knew he was there.

Sam was horrified to realise that his brother, the brother who would sacrifice himself willingly to the needs of his family, was grateful for any attention that confirmed his existence. The majority of the attention was negative and so Dean measured his worth accordingly. Dean was only valued in terms of how well he fulfilled the roles his father placed on him and his Dad had never been one for praise so when he did well, nothing was said and when he did badly, his father raged and Dean had known himself for a failure.

Sam knew his own self-image was built largely from Dean's opinion. Each confirmation of 'you did well', 'it was a good try', 'I know you can do it, just keep going,' had instilled in Sam a sense of worth, it wasn't just his success that mattered, it was his effort, the knowledge that he gave it a go. He'd received plenty more praise in school but it was only now that he reflected how much of that had been because he'd had Dean behind him. Dean who had made sure that each time they moved, Dad had registered Sam for school, Dean who had made sure that Sam had time to do his homework, had the right books, clean clothes, lunch, signed permission slips (even if it was Dean and not Dad who'd done the signing). Dean who had made sure that Sam didn't get hurt, that Sam was safe when they hunted, Dean who'd made sure that Sam would get to school, even when he couldn't attend himself. It was only now that Sam realised the effort Dean must have gone to, when his injuries from hunts were too obvious and too dubious to stand up to the scrutiny of teachers they had kept him from attending but despite the pain he would still walk his brother to school, leaving him to finish the trip alone from just out of sight of the school gates. Sam going into school happy, secure in the knowledge that Dean would be back again at the end of the day to walk him home again.

* * *

Anger welling up inside, Sam leaves his brother's bedside and rushes from the room. He goes outside to breathe again, to try and centre himself, control the overwhelming emotions. He checks his phone again. Nothing from his father. He flicks through the numbers and dials. He stands breathing heavily waiting. It rings a couple of times then switches to voicemail. He listens to the recording and waits, anger roiling inside. "Dad, you know what, you really are a selfish bastard. I honestly didn't think my opinion of you could sink any lower than when you left here, but you have plummeted to a record low. You know what? This is the last time anyone is going to call you Dad, because from here on out, I don't want anything to do with you and if, hear that, **_if_** Dean gets better then I'm going to make sure he puts you behind him too. And you know what, if Dean dies, don't think I'm going to let you know, because he deserves people who love him at his funeral and you, hell I don't think you've ever cared about anyone other than yourself. So remember this, we're through, we don't need you." He closes the phone, disconnecting the call and turns his back to a nearby tree, legs folding beneath him, he slides to the floor and draws his knees up, trying to stop the shaking in his hands. 

"Sam!" He looks up for the voice that had called and sees Bobby approaching from the parking lot. "You okay, boy?"

"Just tired, that's all," says Sam getting to his feet to greet the older man.

"So your Daddy sitting with Dean now is he? Gossiping and flirting with the nurses?"

Sam turns away to give himself a moment before he needs to answer. He indicates a bench further down the path and the two men walk in silence.

"Sam?" Bobby may be a gruff old man, but his heart is in the right place.

Sam shakes his head, trying to clear the thoughts into some sort of order. "I didn't expect you; I thought you were going to call before coming down."

"Yeah, well. I figured Sport up there would appreciate another visitor and it might give the nurses a break from his incessant flirting."

Sam closes his eyes and wishes Bobby was right. "No," he says simply. Bobby waits quietly giving the younger man time to compose himself. A few moments pass, before Sam is ready to explain. "Dad's not even returned the calls," Sam hears Bobby's sigh before he continues, "Dean's still not woken up. Missouri is coming back soon; she thinks she can make up something to help him. I should really get back into him, I just had to get some air and clear my head for a minute, it's so hard to just sit and watch him all the time."

Bobby pats his arm, "Stay here for a bit Sam. I'll go sit with him for a bit. We'll get him through this. Remember he's always been a fighter that brother of yours, he won't leave you without giving it his best shot."

Sam nods in acceptance of both the offer and the statement, "He's back in room 423 again." He watches as Bobby makes his way into the hospital.

* * *

Missouri comes back a short while later bringing with her the salve for Dean's chest. As she walks into Dean's room, she is surprised to see not Sam, but Bobby sitting alongside the bed. 

"Bobby."

He turns from looking at Dean to face her cool gaze. "Missouri. Sam said you were coming back. Got some stuff for Dean, have you?"

"What are you doing here?" her voice remains cold.

"Chatting to Dean," he tries for innocent, knowing full well she won't play, woman never has been willing to give an inch.

"Hmm!" she glares and waits.

"Figured the boys could do with friends being as…"

"Don't say it, Bobby."

"Come off it, Missouri, even you can't deny it. He should be here. You're too soft on him. His boys don't deserve this, don't deserve to go through this on their own."

"No, the boys don't deserve this," her voice softens as she moves into place next to him at Dean's bedside. Her hand rests gently on Dean's shoulder, "they don't deserve this." She turns away from the bed and regards the older man again, "He didn't do it. It hasn't been easy for him, you know."

"I never thought and have never suggested that but I have always maintained that he should have been a father first, everything else should have come after the boys' safety, the boys' lives. What chances did he ever give them?"

"Destiny dictates many things."

"Yeah, so does choice, Missouri. Even you believe in choice," he watches as her eyes drift back to the bed.

"The boys are men now Bobby. They have made their own choices."

"Sometimes woman… argh!... Can you really say he ever let them choose? Look what happened when Sam left, you know what he did, how he treated Dean after. Has this boy ever done anything to warrant the treatment he got? Don't tell me you have never thought it was wrong, because if you do, you were alone. Jim thought it, Caleb thought it, do you really need me to go on?"

"No. I don't. I'm not saying all his decisions were the right ones, but I understand why he made them. He never meant any harm to come to the boys."

"Never meaning it was never going to be good enough. Look this is neither the time nor the place for this discussion. You're here to help the boy, I'll make myself scarce and come back later. When will you be off? I'll come back after that."

"Bobby. It's good you came for the boys." Bobby recognises it for the concession that it is, the acceptance of his right to be here.

"Yeah. Later, Missouri. I'll send Sam up." He walks from the room, resigned. It's an old argument and as far as Bobby can see one they'll never lay to rest. _Get over it old man, the only way for it to change is for John Winchester to change and they'll be eating ice-cream in hell long before that happens.

* * *

_

Missouri sits and rests her hands on Dean again, trying to get a sense of the damage wondering what he needs to heal most. Thoughts track through her mind distracting her from her contemplation of Dean. _Was she wrong to defend John? Did she forgive him sins she had no right to forgive? Bobby was right that Pastor Jim and Caleb had both argued with John over his treatment of the boys. Was she as bad as John? She had gently chided him but had she ever really fought for the children's sake? No she hadn't and worse, she had defended him to the other hunters, told the Pastor he was wrong to say he would take the boys in, saying families should be together. _"I'm sorry, Dean. For my part in this, I'm sorry," she murmured and sat back to wait for Sam.

She hears his weary step come down the corridor from the elevator and so she speaks as he enters the room, "I thought I told you to talk to your brother whilst I was gone."

She feels the energy in the room buzz as he positively bristles with indignation but most surprising is a change in the energy from the bed which is behind her as she turned to look at Sam. She snaps back to look at Dean. "What is it?" Sam's voice is anxious.

"It's… He's annoyed with me." She sounds surprised, "He thinks I should cut you some slack." She almost laughs but catches herself in time. She leans back over Dean, resting both hands on him again "Well boy, I know you're in there. Your brother is waiting for you, so why don't you wake up huh?"

"Dean? Can you hear me? I'm here, come back to me." He looks up at the nudge on his arm and sees Missouri's proffered hand, he nods and pulls up a chair as Missouri settles herself on the other. As Sam closes his eyes, Missouri casts a lingering look over both boys before putting John Winchester out of her mind, and focussing on Dean and seeking Sam.

Sam looks round, he can hear his father's voice again, berating Dean. 'Can't be trusted with anything can you? One simple thing, that's all, one thing. What the hell were you thinking? You were supposed to look out for him, you were supposed to make sure he didn't get hurt. Get out of my sight, you are a fucking disgrace. I'm disgusted. Just go." Sam hears Missouri's gasp of horror at the sound of John's voice. Sam wonders at the fact that it doesn't surprise him, he can't remember this particular event, it blurs with too many others but figures that Dean is probably in trouble for not looking after him properly. He heads for the sound of the voice guessing that Dean will be somewhere nearby listening to it.

"Dean?" he's hoping for some sort of response, "Dean, where are you?"

Nothing, there's not a sound to show where Dean might be, only a repeat performance of Dad's tirade. He continues to walk in its direction, vaguely aware of Missouri following behind him at a distance. He calls repeatedly as he walks hoping for some indication of where Dean might be. Right now, he's got no idea which Dean to look for, how old this memory might be.

The tirade starts over again, like a scratched record, the needle stuck in a never-ending circuit of the same groove, playing the same sequence repeatedly until someone stops it. Sam finds it hard to focus, it's wearing, depressing to hear it repeatedly, no wonder he can't find Dean, if this were his head, his memories, he'd be hiding, hell, by now he'd be digging his brain out through his ear with a toothpick if he thought it would stop this incessant white noise of voices.

"Dean, it's Sam. I'm looking for you," he calls, hoping that his brother will respond, "Dean, can you help me? I can't find you." Maybe sounding a little lost will draw Dean out to Sam, he's counting on Dean's ingrained protective streak. Truth be told Sam feels completely lost in his brother's mind right now.

"Sammy? Are you okay?" it's Dean's voice, not as strong and confident as Sam is used to but it's enough to give him a direction to head in to find him.

"Dean, please…" Please what? Sam's not going to lie to Dean not here, not now when it really matters, but if he needs to be vague to draw his brother to him, that he can do.

"Sammy. You're alright, it'll be alright. I'm sorry you got hurt Sammy. I'll look after you. But you have to stay with me, you can't run off, you need to stay with me, please Sammy. I can't look after you if you run off like that."

Sam's got a terrible suspicion he knows 'when' Dean is. He looks round and finds his brother, now he's certain, the black eye Dean's sporting leaves no room for doubt. "Dean, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to run away from you. It was never you, Dean."

"Sammy? I can't keep you safe if you run away, little brother." Sam's heart is breaking. His fingers reach up to stroke Dean's face, careful of the twelve year old's eye, wary also of the ribs that he knows are badly bruised and wonders what Dean sees when he looks at Sam. Is Sam grown or still a child, hurting, at this stage? He wonders too if Dean feels both sets of injuries, the current ones and these older ones.

Sam remembers the arguments he'd had with his father, remembers how his father had gone out, either drinking or hunting it hadn't mattered then and it was irrelevant now. Sam remembers how he'd gone to his room, ostensibly to do his homework but instead had packed a bag, then sneaked out whilst his brother was distracted. He can't remember what Dean was doing, it was something else that hadn't been important at the time. Sam had left and headed out 'leaving'. He remembered thinking he needed to keep away from the road so if his father came back he wouldn't be seen, instead he'd set off into the woods. He hadn't gone far before he'd tripped over a tree root in the dark, spraining an ankle and shredding the skin on his hand. He'd been lucky, it hadn't taken Dean long to find him. Dean who'd known he wouldn't take the road and had headed straight for the woods in pursuit. Dean had helped him back to the motel, cleaned and dressed the hand and bound the ankle. Both boys had been sat in front of the TV eating dinner when Dad had returned. It had taken him moments to notice the bandages on his younger son before he'd turned on the elder, accusing him of being a slacker, and what exactly had happened to Sammy and Dean had said they'd been playing outside when Sammy fell, no mention of the backpack and the escape attempt.

The end result had been that his father never knew he'd tried to run away, but after he'd gone to bed, he heard his Dad start in again on Dean for not looking after his brother properly and then he'd heard the sound of the slap. Sam remembers curling up, head under the pillow as he tried to hide from the noise, from his part in what had happened. It was one of the rare occasions when his father had physically injured either of them. When Dean had come to bed later that night, it was with a blackening eye and bruised ribs. Sam had climbed from his bed to his brother's and Dean had held onto him as if the world as he knew it was ending. It was a long time before Sam risked his brother by running away again.

He offers Dean the apology now that he hadn't been able to put into words then. "I'm sorry Dean. I would never have gone if I'd known he'd do this to you. I would never have risked you."

"Sorry, Sammy. Need you to be safe, no good, didn't keep you safe enough. Sorry you got hurt, Sammy. I should have had your back. I should have watched better."

"No Dean. You did fine. Remember that you found me Dean, you looked after me. I ran away, you found me and kept me safe." Safe not only from the night and the things that lurked but safe from John Winchester as well. "Dean you need to come with me. I need you to come back to wake up. I need you to get better, Dean." Everything flickers and for a moment everything is white and Sam can't see a thing, then it flickers again and his surroundings come back into focus.

Sam knows when this is now as soon as he sees Dean, it's not long after the night he had run away. Sam can't recall exactly where this happened but he knows they'd moved again between the running away and this night but that Dean was still about twelve. There are no clues to let him be more precise than that. Dean wasn't well, some sort of stomach flu, that had had him throwing up and shaking and generally feeling weak. As soon as it seemed like the nausea stage was passed, John had insisted he was well enough to go hunting, saying they had wasted enough time. The two of them had set off, leaving Sam in the car with his homework. They hadn't been gone long, when the weakness from his illness had overcome Dean and he had been stumbling, shivering and unable to focus, barely able to keep himself upright. Dad, furious at Dean's inadequacy, had started to drag him back to the car. Sam remembered looking out of the window and seeing his brother stumbling, he remembered the shock of thinking his brother had been hurt by whatever they were chasing, he'd dived out of the car and reached for his brother. He'd heard his father's voice, 'Weak, that's what you are, Weak! You should be gritting your teeth and getting through this.' As John's tirades went this one was minor, not physical, just a general wearing down of the spirit. Sam knew he'd done right when this had happened, he'd soothed his brother in the car, calmed him as they waited for their father to return. He did the same again.

* * *

Sam was tired when Missouri let go of his hand, tired but calm knowing he'd left Dean calm, knowing that he had done the right thing at the time and now in that particular memory. He leant back in his chair with a sigh and looked over at Missouri.

"I'm sorry, Sam."

"What? What for? He's going to be alright isn't he? You've brought the stuff. What?" he could feel his anxiety levels rising, recognising the false sense of security that he was helping Dean that he'd given himself.

"No, it's not that. You're doing well. I'm sorry… I didn't know that… I didn't realise how bad it was for you both…"

"Oh! That" he doesn't really know what to say but feels he has to say something, "There were good times too. Dean always made sure of that. It's like you said he's just not remembering them."

"Your Dad…" she doesn't know quite what to say.

"We were kids, Missouri, he didn't know how to handle that but we were okay. We had each other and you know we had some good times at Bobby's, Pastor Jim's and other places too. It wasn't all bad."

She nods. Bobby's words come back to her. The men, the other hunters, had seen, she'd not seen it all, she'd not appreciated what it really meant to be a hunter, how bad it could be. She'd thought John was just a man grieving, not realising just how much worse than having a grieving parent it would have been for the two boys before her now.

"But Dean…?" his voice has a slight shake as he moves his gaze from his brother back to her.

"You're doing well with him, Sam. I think it's helping."

"The salve?"

"You said the nurses check his bandages when?"

He glances at his watch, "normally within the next half hour or so."

"Right, once they've done that and we're alone, we'll take the bandages off, put on the salve and then cover it up. By the time they come round in the morning, it should have gone, been soaked into his skin, into the wounds and it should be helping. You should be able to tell if it's helping by tomorrow morning. If it is, I'll leave you with plenty and Jenny and I will head out, she needs to get back to her little ones, you understand." He nods but she see the wariness in his eyes. "Sam, if it's no better then I will stay and she can go back without me. We will find something to help it." He nods again.

"Sam, we'll try and help him again before I go tonight, after we've put this on. I'll come in the morning and we'll do it again then but after that you'll be on your own. Can you do this?"

"I tried… when you'd gone I tried to go in but it wouldn't work."

"No Sam. By then, hopefully, all you'll need is to keep talking, keep telling him what you want him to hear. When he wakes up, you'll need to get him to talk about it if you can before he has chance to get his barriers back up. If the salve works, then he should wake up soon."

Sam hopes she's right.

* * *

_**Author's Note:** Continued thanks to those kind people who have left reviews and a special thank you to those people who have pointed out pieces that work well or suggestions for improvements. It is much appreciated._


	8. Taking small steps forward

**_There's a Way Through to the Other Side In The End

* * *

_**

**_Disclaimer_**: Supernatural doesn't belong to me, nor do Dean, Sam, or the other characters you recognise. I am making no money so please don't come looking for me.

* * *

**_Warning_**: some violence as the story progresses

**_Spoilers_** - post-end of Series 1 Devil's Trap so some passing mention of events in Season episodes such as Faith, Home, Devil's Trap etc.

* * *

_**Author's Note:** Thanks to Rae Artemis for being beta._

* * *

**_Chapter 8 – Taking small steps forward_**

It's a long and anxious night for Sam, sitting beside Dean's bed watching and waiting for any sign of change. There's nothing to see, no indication that the salve is doing anything at all, no sign that Dean is getting ready to wake up. All Sam has left is hope, hope that Dean will… will get better, will wake up, will be Dean again.

He sees the sunrise again and figures that he definitely needs to make sure that Dean sees a few of them because it's time Dean developed a love for the beautiful things in life, plus it's free and there's one wherever they are and it's not like they ever have much money to spare to go looking for beauty.

The nurse comes in. Rosie, she smiles and asks how they're both doing as if Sam can give any sort of response for either of them. On the plus side, Dean is still breathing, sleeping soundly, but he doesn't know what else to look for and as for himself, he's got no idea. She lets him know, kindly but not very subtly. "You know you might feel better if you took a couple of hours off, had a bit of a sleep and maybe had a shower and got yourself a change of clothes" No, it's not subtle at all – she's telling Sam he looks like shit and probably smells pretty close too.

"I… You're probably right. I think maybe I'll go back to the motel and at least grab a shower and my mouth feels in dire need of a good scrubbing, I don't want to think about what conclusions I should draw from that." Sam realises that he's probably in danger of being classed as a lethal contaminant and being banned from his brother's room forever. "I… Can I just hang on until you've checked him over?"

She beams as if Sam's just come up with a great idea for revolutionising the medical care provided in the hospital. "No problem. Just give me a minute to check all his stats and then I'll check his chest. The dressing might need changing the wounds weren't looking too good last night." Sam knows this already because he'd taken the dressing off just after they'd finished applying it last night in order to put the salve on. If Missouri's right there should be no evidence left of the salve so they will be safe from the hospital wanting to know why they are applying their own stuff.

She wakes him from his reverie with another question, "Do you want to stay here or wait outside and I'll let you know when I'm done?"

"I'll stay." He wants to see for himself, check for himself.

She's so gentle when she lifts the dressings; Sam's impatience is sucking the air out of the room, generating a buzz of static between himself and the hand he holds. He feels it then, not sure, is it just a flinch, a muscle spasm or is it Dean trying to fight his way back or is he in pain? "Dean? Are you there? Can you hear me?"

"What is it, Sam?"

He feels foolish saying that he thinks Dean is trying to break through, trying to wake up in case she says it's nothing worth remarking on. "I thought I felt his fingers twitch. It's probably nothing yet."

"Something or nothing, let's have a look at it for you, shall we? Okay, Dean can you hear me? It's Rosie, I'm just going to try a couple of things, let's see if you can start waking up now."

She carries out a few reflex type tests that Sam recognises, some get reactions albeit small ones, but reactions nonetheless. Sam is relieved; maybe this is the first good sign they've had. He waits as she returns to the dressings on his chest to see what's underneath. He can barely contain his apprehension but sits chewing on a finger.

"Well, if that doesn't look better… Sam, you'll be pleased to know it looks loads better than yesterday. It's still going to take time to heal properly but the inflammation from the infection seems to be reducing." Sam takes a look, is relieved to see the improvement she described – there's a long way to go, but at least they know the salve works for now. "It's good they've put him on the stronger antibiotics, they seem to be doing the trick."

Sam has no intention of correcting her opinion on that one and figures that they probably aren't doing any harm even if they're not the actual remedy. He flops back down into the chair he's spent the night in with relief. Both he and the chair let out a groan of protest at the duress they've been under. His body is taut and he feels like he's been running on the edge for too long now.

"Sam?" he looks up to Rosie, "If this is a good sign, which it seems to be that Dean is on the mend, don't you think he needs to wake up to a less frightening sight than you are at the moment?"

Sam smiles slowly and then nods and pulls himself up out of the chair with another groan of protest. "I'll see you later."

"Yeah, maybe then we'll see you coming rather than smell you." She teases with a grin. Sam blushes but thinks on their first visit, Rosie would have struggled to have a conversation with a Winchester, let alone tease one as she's doing now. It's that effect that Dean has on women. Rosie would herself have admitted that Dean's effect helped, but that Sam seems like such a nice boy, not the loud, albeit friendly and harmless, flirt that his brother is. Plus she knows that underneath the stubble that has been growing steadily over the last few days, there is a grin that she quite likes to see.

* * *

Sam heads back to the motel. When he arrives, he sees Bobby walking across the car park with a bottle of motor oil in one hand and a set of keys in the other. "Sam! How's Dean?"

"Yeah, he's fine. Well there's been some improvement over night anyway, which is good."

"Pleased to hear it. That stuff from Missouri must be working then, right?"

"Seems like. So car trouble?" Bobby stops next to a minivan, puts the key into open the door, before leaning in to pop the hood. Sam's surprised, "That your car?"

"What? No! Missouri's friend's. I heard them pull up in it yesterday. The plugs are misfiring so I thought before they head out on the road back, I'd clean them up and check the oil for them."

"Oh right. Are they still in?"

"They were talking about going to get some breakfast in a few minutes. Why?"

"I was kind of hoping to grab a shower and a shave and some clean clothes."

"Sounds like a good idea. Face like that your brother won't recognise you when he does wake up."

Sam walked over to his room in the motel and knocked on the door. He stood back and waited until Jenny answered, "Sam. How's Dean this morning?"

"Seems a bit better, thanks. He's still not awake though, but the nurse this morning said he was reacting more so that's good."

"Yeah, it is, come on in. We were about to go and grab some breakfast, do you want to come?"

"Actually, I came by to grab a shower and a change of clothes if that's okay?"

"Sam, good to see you this morning. I take it things are improving with Dean?" Missouri beamed as he came into the room.

"Yeah a bit. Are you coming by?"

"Thought we'd come by after breakfast, you know spend a bit of time and then head out back to Lawrence. Bobby's here so he'll keep you company too. You coming for breakfast or have you already eaten?"

"No, I've come for a shower and a change of clothes before I frighten everyone away."

"Good idea. We'll see you back over at the hospital then."

"Yeah, see you later."

The women leave and Sam hurries through his morning routine, wanting to get back to Dean as quickly as he can.

* * *

Half an hour later, he's sat back at Dean's bedside talking about everything and nothing in particular. He managed to sneak enough time with Dean after the doctor had checked him over and without any interruptions to apply another liberal dose of the salve to his chest before covering it again and hoping the improvement continues. He keeps hold of Dean's fingers and is certain now that Dean will wake up soon because he's definite now that he has felt Dean's fingers twitching during certain parts of the conversation. He wonders if that's Dean's way of saying he's listening or if it's a comment on the particular event that he's describing, whichever, right now, he's just glad of a reaction from Dean.

It's a while before Jenny and Missouri appear and when they do Sam's stomach is grumbling, "Boy you sitting there stupid for a reason? Food – that word mean anything to you? Too stupid to go get himself something to eat – and you went to Stanford! What did they teach you there anyways? How did you manage all that time without your brother? He's not too stupid to eat when he's hungry I bet?"

"I…" he can't really come up with an answer to that. He knows that Dean is the one who makes sure that they eat three times a day unless Hell has actually broken loose – in which case he's bound to have some M&Ms around somewhere to stave off starvation for a while at least – in fact the Impala has stores of dubious edible items – the health value of which is negligible but at least they prevent moments like these. Mind you, Dean probably wouldn't have left Sam's bedside much either were their positions reversed and so Sam only feels slightly foolish.

"Go and get something to eat, Jenny will sit and chat to Dean for a while, tell him about the children, he'll like that. I'm coming with you; I need to talk to you about a few things before we go." So Sam gives up his chair by Dean's bed with a grimace, so that Jenny can sit down and heads out of the room with Missouri.

* * *

Returning to the room after food and a chat, Sam sees both Bobby and Jenny sat chatting, Bobby is regaling Jenny with tales of how foolhardy Sam and Dean had been as teenagers and the trouble they had caused at his and at Pastor Jim's. "We weren't that bad and you both used to find us more than enough jobs to do to keep us out of any real trouble. I'm sure the Pastor used to go round all the old people in the neighbourhood and offer us out as slave labour – at least you didn't have any neighbours so we were spared an unending list of lawns to mow and gardens to tidy! Mind you, why you used to have us wash some of those old rust buckets at yours, I can't imagine – no one was going to want them, washed or not."

"But like you said Sam, it kept you both out of trouble and burnt off some of that excess energy you both had, but particularly your brother – I don't think he could sit still until he was absolutely exhausted. Eh boy!" he turns and pretends to call to Dean, nudging his arm gently, "In all these years, I've never known you need this much beauty sleep – worried about not being such an eye-catcher in your old age! I'd say you need to wake up and have a shave before you look like Rip Van Winkle."

As Missouri enters, she takes charge, "Good Morning Bobby. I was thinking maybe you and Jenny could go down and have a cup of coffee before we have to head on back and that will give Sam and I one last chance to convince this one," she rests her hand on Dean's shoulder, "that it's time to wake up."

Jenny and Bobby leave still chatting about the foibles of children, Sam shakes his head before sitting back down next to Dean and waiting for Missouri to be set.

* * *

Sam stands beside Bobby to see Missouri and Jenny off unwilling to voice his concern that he needs Missouri to stay, that waiting for Dean to wake up isn't going to be enough.

"Sam, Missouri wouldn't go if she didn't think he'd be alright, and that you'd be able to help him without needing her. Trust her." Sam looks at Bobby shock evident in his face. Bobby laughs, "No, before you say anything no. I'll leave the psychic shit to her. I can see it in your face – them frowns get any deeper, you'll never get rid of them."

Sam nods, "I should…" he points back to the hospital.

"You do that. I'll come by later, sit with him so you can get some air and something to eat."

"You … you don't have t…"

Bobby holds up his hand refusing to listen to the statement, "I'll see you both later." Sam nods again, turns and walks swiftly back to Dean's room.

"Hi Honey," Nurse Honey is just leaving Dean's room as Sam reaches it. "Are your friends gone now? It was good of them to stop in, but a shame they can't stay."

"Jenny and Missouri have gone, yes. Jenny has children; she needed to get back to them."

"Your father's friend, the older gentleman, he's still here then?"

"Bobby, yes he'll be in later, but he's…" Sam pauses, not sure how to explain and not really sure that he should be telling her anyway, "he's not really a friend of my father. More someone we knew growing up, a friend of Dean's now, I suppose."

"So are you expecting your father to be back to see your brother?"

"No, I'm not expecting him to be round."

"Oh, that's a shame," there is something strange in her voice but Sam can't quite place it.

"Not really. Anyway look, I should really be getting back in to see Dean." He means it as a dismissal, he doesn't actually want to be rude to these nurses who are so kind and considerate but he can't afford to waste energy thinking about the damage his father has inflicted when talking to strangers, right now he needs everything he's got to focus on repairing the damage caused by him to Dean.

"Sam, I know your Dad left early last time, when you were all in here honey, but do you think he knows Dean's back in hospital. Maybe if you spoke to him, he might consider…"

Sam chokes back a bitter laugh, "Left early? That's an understatement. Dean hadn't even come round."

"Sam, Honey?" she tries to calm his anger.

"He didn't make any effort to find out whether he was even alive. And before you ask, yes, I have phoned. I've phoned him twice to tell him how bad it is and he's made no attempt to return the calls, let alone visit. So we're through. Now I need to get to Dean."

"Sam, I'm sorry. There's something that I think you need to know."

"What?"

"Your father phoned the hospital this morning. He was put through to the ward while you were downstairs, I took the call."

"He did." Sam figures that once he would have felt delighted at this small indication of concern but right now, he thinks it's probably got more to do with guilt than concern. Guilt that Sam thinks he deserves, so he's certainly not going to make any attempt to assuage it for him. "What did he want?"

"Sam," she takes his arm and leads him to a seat a short way down the corridor. "Sit here with me for a minute and I'll tell you." He looks at her in wonder. "Sam, he asked how much longer… Then he asked how you were taking it and if he needed to come for you."

"If he needed to come for me? Not if he needed to come for Dean? How much longer? How much longer for what?"

"He wanted to know…" she's reluctant to put it into words; it had been bad enough the conversation on the phone without needing to explain it to Sam. She knew about the arguments before John Winchester had left between these two men, she'd seen the grave concern for his father when Dean woke and the anger it had elicited from Sam. She'd never seen a father walk away like that from a child in all her time as a nurse, a child of any age. "He wanted to know how long Dean had left."

Sam's voice is a whisper, "How long Dean has left? Right." He doesn't know what to say to that so instead he stands and heads back to the door. He stops and looks back at where she is standing still watching him, "Nurse…" he pauses, reluctant to call her Honey when he knows Dean made it up and it's not her real name.

"Your brother always called me Honey and that's fine. If you'd prefer, my name's actually Pauline," she says as she taps the name badge that Sam hadn't thought to look at.

"Sorry Pauline. Can I ask you something about Dean?"

"Of course."

"He is going to get better right?"

"I think he is, honestly Sam. He has made some definite improvements, he's a real fighter, we just need to pray that his chest continues to improve and doesn't get infected again. I don't think he's up to fighting through this again at this stage."

"How long?"

"Until he wakes up? I couldn't say at this stage but he does seem to be moving towards it."

"Thanks and I'm sorry for taking up your time."

"Sam. You need anything, we have got the time, any of us, we're here to help your brother and that means we help you too if we can, you need to be able to be there for him. Now go on, shoo. Get along in there to see that brother of yours."

* * *

Sam is sitting next to Dean, holding his finger-tips again, talking quietly but gazing through the window. He's stopped reacting every time Dean's fingers twitch, but finds it reassuring that it seems to be happening more often. He's certain it can only be a good sign. He hears a rustle of movement and turns to the door, expecting to see someone coming in but there is no one there. Figuring it must be someone outside, he goes to turn back to his contemplation of the window, but as he turns he sees Dean.

For the first time, since he came out of surgery, Dean has moved, he has turned his head towards Sam as if seeking to follow the sound of his voice. "Hey Dean. You ready to wake up now? You've had me kind of worried for a while now. I'd feel better if you'd open your eyes, dude."

Sam can see Dean trying. He can almost feel the panic building in Dean. He sees Dean's eyelids close tighter then relax, sees his eyes moved beneath the closed lids and aches for the effort this is taking. Sam reaches his free hand up to stroke Dean's cheek and run his fingers through his hair. "It's okay, Dean, we'll get there, don't worry. I'm not going away. I'll be here when you're ready. Just relax, listen for a while, then we'll try again." Sam does everything he can to keep his voice calm and soothing but inside he is in turmoil. He tells another story, "Do you remember when…?"

* * *

It's another hour before Bobby stops by, and Sam is pretty sure that Dean is asleep again at the moment. "Time to stretch your legs, lad. Grab yourself some lunch and a bit of air. Sport and I will be fine for a while."

"It's okay, I'll stay for now."

"Sam… go. Even if it's just for a few minutes. Go."

"He nearly woke up before."

"And if he wakes up while you're not here, I'll get them to call you or I'll call your cell, but you'll be no good to him if you don't look after yourself, if it takes him a while to wake up fully. So go."

"Dean, I'll be back soon. I'm just going to speak to Bobby outside for a minute, then he'll be back in for a few. I'll be back before you know I'm gone."

Bobby gives a curious look at Sam but moves back to the door and waits for Sam, watching as he runs his fingers through Dean's hair again. Bobby wonders which of the brothers the action is supposed to soothe, but reckons it doesn't really matter so long as it helps at least one of them.

"So, you wanted to talk to me?" he says as Sam leaves the room.

Sam pulls the door almost shut behind him, "Dad's called the hospital. He wanted to know if I was okay."

"And?"

"He wanted to know how long before Dean dies." Sam's voice is quiet and filled with pain. "If he comes, I don't want him in there; Dean doesn't need to hear what he's got to say…"

"Go, take the break. I'll stay with Dean. I'll deal with John if he comes and I'll call you back if anything at all happens, so Sam, go."

He watches the tall figure walk down the corridor towards the elevator which will take him downstairs. He can see the weight of worry and anguish Sam is carrying on his shoulders in the posture of his body. He'll make the offer of a place to stay when Sam gets back, the new dog won't like John Winchester either, so he'll deter him from coming on to the property and if he makes it to the front door, this time Bobby thinks maybe he won't **_just_** threaten to shoot him, he'll actually follow through.

* * *


	9. Waking up to Reality

**_There's a Way Through to the Other Side In The End

* * *

_**

**_Disclaimer_**: Supernatural doesn't belong to me, nor do Dean, Sam, or the other characters you recognise. I am making no money so please don't come looking for me.

* * *

**_Warning_**: some violence as the story progresses 

**_Spoilers_** - post-end of Series 1 Devil's Trap so some passing mention of events in Season episodes such as Faith, Home, Devil's Trap etc.

Thanks to Rae Artemis.

* * *

**_Chapter 9 – Waking up to reality_**

Later in the afternoon, Bobby has gone and Sam is talking again, he's looking out of the window and reminiscing when Dean coughs. Dean's been aware of Sam for a while, watching him since he managed to finally get his eyes open. He knows he's been out of it for a bit but he still feels tired and he aches all over. It's all right though, because Sam is here and he's talking non-stop, so much more than he's talked in … Dean can't remember the last time Sam talked so much without being angry. He doesn't think Sam is angry now, he doesn't sound angry. He's talking about things they've done in the past. In fact, every time Dean's been aware of Sam, he's been talking about the past. Half the things he's talking about Dean can't even remember right now, but they seem to be happy memories for Sam. Dean's quite pleased about that because sometimes he worries that Sam hated their life so much that he probably didn't have any happy memories of growing up. There don't seem to be many in which Dad is there, if he had the energy to do more than listen, Dean might wonder why that is but for now he's content to just lie here and listen. Content might not even be the right word, Dean actually thinks it's all he's up to doing but his throat is dry and sore and he feels like he ought to let Sam know he's actually awake now. He opens his mouth and not a sound comes out. Not that he's sure what he ought to say, after all "Morning Sam" doesn't seem quite appropriate nor does "Have I been asleep long?" or "Did I miss much?" Knowing Sam, it's also probably better that he doesn't start with "Why does my chest feel like someone's been shredding it with a grater?" or "Is there a particular reason why I ache all over and feel like shit?" He's trying to remember what the last thing he remembers before… but he's not sure what 'before' he needs to remember, things are a bit fuzzy right now. Having figured out that he's in hospital, Dean wonders if the problem is something that they've given him because thinking sure is hard and so is speaking, he still hasn't managed to get a sound out. He thinks he was listening to Missouri earlier but that can't be right, he's pretty certain they haven't been to Lawrence in months although he knows they've spoken on the phone since but unless Sam's been holding a phone next to his ear so she can harangue him from a distance, Dean's pretty sure they're nowhere near her, so he must have been dreaming. He knows he dreamt about Dad, certain he dreamt about Dad because some of it was things that happened years ago or at least he thinks they are, pretty sure they're years ago and not now anyway, he's not certain that he's heard Dad here and now but then maybe he's at work. The hunt is too important for him to waste time sitting around waiting for Dean to wake up; Dean knows that, particularly if Sam's sitting here. Shouldn't Sam be somewhere else? Didn't he have something important to do? Dean thinks that maybe he should make a bigger effort to let Sam know he's awake because then Sam can get on and do that important thing that Dean can't remember right now.

He tries, he really does but he just can't find his voice at all, but the force he uses to try and make it work does make him cough which at least serves the purpose as Sam looks down at him and smiles, "Hey Dean. It's good to see you awake."

Dean tries again, going just for "Sam," doesn't manage more than an "S" sound before he dissolves into more coughing.

"Hey, take it easy. I bet your throat's a bit sore. Just hang on and I'll get you some ice chips." Dean nods, it's like so many of Sam's ideas – good.

What neither of them expects is the panic that hits Dean once Sam has moved out of sight. Dean feels it hit as soon as he can neither see nor hear Sam, as soon as he hears the door swing shut, he feels his breath start to get shorter and his heart speed up, he knows it's stupid, he knows Sam's gone for ice but supposing something happens to him while he's gone, Dean knows he's in no state to protect him. In fact, who's been protecting Sam while Dean's been out of it, Dad must be here somewhere; he must be looking out for Sam. He's going to be furious, Dean knows he's let them down again, he can't remember what went wrong but to end up in hospital he must have fucked up big time.

As soon as he walks back into the room, Sam can hear Dean panting, rather than the smooth breathing he walked out to. He races over to Dean's side and looks into his eyes, seeing the panic there. "Dean? Dean? What is it? What's the matter? Calm down Dean. I'm just going to call the nurse okay. I'm not going anywhere." Sam reaches across and presses the call button, seeing that Dean isn't yet calming down at all, he presses it another couple of times to make sure that whichever nurse is on duty hurries down. In the meantime, he tries to hold Dean down as he's trying to get up. "Just hold on there for now, Dean. Let the nurses check you over before you try to get up – you're all wired in there man, you'll do more damage. Just wait Dean." Sam can't work out quite what the panic is but Dean's quite clearly worried about something. "Dean! Stop it! Look at me!" The raised voice breaks through the panic and Dean stills, his eyes gradually settling on Sam. "It's okay. Just rest a minute okay."

The nurse comes in; it's Rosie this time, "Oooh! So you've woken up at last, have you?" Her voice is bright and cheerful, friendly but Dean just continues to look confused and panicked. She moves over to the bed and starts to check his stats, and looks him over. She talks in a calm voice throughout telling both men, what she's doing, what information she's found, what's good, what could be better. Sam finds it reassuring but he's not sure that the same can be said for Dean. Sam goes to step back to let her have access to the other side of Dean to make it easier to check on him, but Dean moves with surprising speed , trying to sit up and snatch at Sam's arm. "Dean, stop!" Rosie's voice is firm. "Sam's not going anywhere, but you need to keep still and breathe properly. You're going to make matters worse if you don't. Sam's going to sit on the end of the bed while I finish up here, then you're going to have some of these ice chips and we'll see if that helps your voice and throat because I bet it's a bit sore isn't it?"

Sam sits on the end of the bed with the cup of ice chips in one hand trying to smash some of the bigger chips up smaller to make it easier for Dean to soothe his throat with them, once Rosie has finished. He keeps looking back and catching Dean's eyes and tries to ensure that each time the look he gives is calm and reassuring like they have nothing at all to worry about. In truth, he feels quite panicky himself, wondering why Dean has reacted so violently. Between the calming voice of Nurse Rosie and the reassuring looks from Sam, Dean has calmed considerably although he still seems on edge as if waiting for something terrible to happen.

"Okay, that's me done here. You're doing fine, Dean. I'm going to go and leave you with Sam for now, but I'll be back with the Doctor soon. I'll just go and let him know that you've woken up. In the meantime, have a few of these ice chips that Sam's having fun with down there, " she rolls her eyes at him, as if to say isn't Sam the silly one, "Don't overdo it, but a few should ease your throat. And just take it easy okay. You're not going anywhere just yet. Okay Sam, you know what to do?" Sam nods and moves back up to be usefully close to his brother.

"Hey. You okay?" Dean looks slightly calmer when Sam settles next to him but Sam waits for him to nod anyway. "Ready for some chips?" Sam goes to pass the cup to Dean but sees that he is shaking again, "let me help you with that. Let me feel useful for a change." He tries to make light of the situation but is quite unnerved by the reaction he's seen. Dean is definitely calming down although the tremors haven't gone from his body yet and as he still hasn't made any sound other than the coughing, Sam has no idea what's worrying him. He hasn't however, failed to notice that Dean' s eyes keep flicking to the door as if he's expecting someone to come in. "Dean, Dad's not here, he's not coming in, we're okay. Don't worry."

A few ice chips later and Dean's managed to get out the words "Sam" and "Sorry" several times but Sam isn't sure what in particular he's apologising for in order to reassure him there's no need. He's trying to be positive but when he tries to tell Dean that there's nothing to be sorry for, he can see in Dean's eyes the belief that Sam is still Sammy and is too naïve to know what he's done wrong.

Sam puts his hand on the side of Dean's face again as he sees Dean's eyes begin to blink slower, taking longer to reopen each time. "That's it close your eyes, Dean, it's okay. Rest for a bit and you'll feel a bit better when you next wake up." He waits until he's sure Dean's asleep then gets up off the bed to stretch. Checking on his brother to make sure he really is out of it, he leaves the room in search of Rosie, to find out what was really going on.

"Sam? Is everything okay? Does Dean need anything?" she smiles as he approaches the nurses' station.

"He's asleep again. When is the doctor coming down?"

"Probably about half an hour. He's in the middle of something and needs to finish it but as soon as he's done he'll come and check on Dean. He'll be fine."

"Why did he react like that? He seemed fine when he first woke up but he hasn't managed to get a sentence out yet. Why is that?"

"It will probably be a combination of factors, Sam. He's had a lot of tubes and what have you down his throat although they're not there now, he's not been drinking to lubricate it really. Some of the side-effects of the meds he's been taking will also have dried his throat; they may also have left him disoriented and a bit groggy. Just keep reassuring him when he's awake and he'll come round and be fine, I'm sure. If he wakes up again, maybe don't leave him, just press call and if you need ice or anything, we'll bring it down. He's likely to be a bit confused until he's more awake. The doctor will check him over and he will be fine. This is a good sign, Sam, he's woken up."

"He was shaking."

"Again, it's likely to be a combination of the meds, the fact he's been out of it for so long and the panic. It should get less each time he wakes. But don't worry we'll keep an eye on it."

"Thank you. I'm sorry. I should probably get back now…"

"I'll be through and check again soon. Anything that worries you, just press call." Sam nods and heads back to Dean.

* * *

It's about twenty minutes later, when Dean opens his eyes again. This time Sam is ready for him and is watching and smiles as Dean focuses on Sam's face. Dean lifts his hand to reach for Sam's face as if making sure he's really there. Sam helps Dean rest his hand against Sam's cheek. Dean seems to relax as if somehow now he knows Sam's okay, more than he could by just looking at him. He remains calm this time, the shaking is less and he manages some more ice chips. He stays awake for longer and is still awake when the doctor arrives. His agitation begins again when the doctor starts to check him over but between his own strength and his brother's reassurance he manages to make it through without too much trouble. 

He falls asleep not long after the doctor leaves and shortly after having said, "I'm tired, Sam. I don't know why I'm so tired."

It's the most words he's managed to get out together since he's woken up and Sam smiles and reassures him again that it's okay to sleep for a bit more and he'll still be here when he wakes up again. Dean nods and gives a vague tired smile, before his eyes close again.

When Bobby comes in to give Sam a break, he refuses to leave for more than the time it takes to make a bathroom stop, instead he asks Bobby to grab him something to eat from the cafeteria that he can eat up here. Once he's remembered to actually tell Bobby that Dean's been awake a couple of times and a bit panicked whilst awake, Bobby agrees that it's probably for the best. He also reassures Sam that as yet, there is no sign of John or his truck anywhere in town – Bobby took some time to check out not only the town but the other motel on thehighway leading out on the far side of town just in case.

* * *

When Bobby returns with some sandwiches that are passably edible but nothing worth congratulating the cafeteria supervisors on, he sits down to talk to Sam. Dean is sleeping but Sam is pretty convinced he's going to wake again any time as he seems to be following a pattern of about 30 minutes sleep between each wake period. The wake periods seem to be gradually getting longer by a few minutes each time. He is still struggling with his throat and getting the words out but then apart from sorry he doesn't seem to be trying to say too much else. That is one of the reasons Sam isn't going to risk being anywhere other than here when he is awake because he's not going to let Dean keep apologising because he's pretty sure that whatever it is that Dean thinks he needs to apologise for wasn't his fault in the first place. 

Sam is taken quite by surprise by Bobby's choice of conversation; the "after Dean gets out of hospital" chat wasn't what he was expecting. He may not have been expecting it but the offer of a place to stay and not having to drag Dean round the country from motel to motel while he recovers sounds good to Sam and even better when Bobby says "just so you know though, your Dad won't be welcome."

Sam wants to cheer and say "Thank God for that" at that point but he doesn't want to risk waking Dean to this part of the conversation so he just quietly says, "I think that might be a good thing, but it might take a bit of effort to convince Dean of that."

"Well, I figure that out of all of us, Dean's the one who least needs to see him. He wouldn't be in this mess if it weren't… I think I've probably said enough at this point and it would be better if I shut up. But the two of you are welcome to stay for as long as you need, and there's nothing to worry about while you're there."

"Thank you. I'd like to take you up on that offer. I don't want him to have to stay in here any longer than necessary and motels well… you know what that's like."

"Look, do you want me to hang around now, or should I come back later?"

"I think he'll probably wake up again soon. Each time he seems to stay awake a bit longer and I reckon it'll be soon."

"Tell you what I'll go now, and make sure I catch him later, if it's getting a bit easier for him each time he wakes, it'll be better to do it later. Tell Sport I was asking after him. See you Sam."

* * *

He hasn't been gone long and Sam is just finishing his sandwich when Dean's eyes flicker open again. Sam picks up his hand to attract his attention and waits for his brother to focus on him with a small smile of recognition. "Hey Dean, how it's going?" 

"Sleepy," he yawns. "Have I been asleep long?"

Sam wonders if he means since he last woke up or in all, goes with his most recent snooze "about 30 minutes, I guess"

Maybe that was the wrong answer, judging by the confusion on Dean's face, so he clarifies, "you've been waking up for bits all day today and then sleeping again in between."

"Oh." Dean nods slowly as if the answer is beginning to make sense to him, "So how long then altogether?"

"Not quite a week."

Dean looks shell-shocked and doesn't say anything, his eyes drift away from Sam's again. Sam waits giving him thinking space but he doesn't want to let him have too much of that because he's already seen too much of where it leads for Dean, so after a couple of minutes quiet, he restarts their conversation, "So, bad chest huh!"

Dean nods slowly. "Still hurts?" Another nod, this one is slower and not so deep. "Dean you do know that you're going to have to be honest with me this time about it and how you are feeling, we can't risk it getting this bad. It nearly killed you."

Dean turns away so Sam plunges on, "Do you remember what happened?" Dean still doesn't answer and continues to look away. Sam knows it's cruel to take advantage of the fact that Dean can't get away but he does it anyway and walks round the bed to sit where Dean's gaze is now. He sighs and Sam smiles ruefully, "It's important Dean, I need you to tell me what you think happened. What can you tell me?"

Another sigh, but as it ends, Dean's forehead wrinkles like he's thinking, then he looks confused as if he isn't quite sure about what he's been thinking, "Sam? It's…I'm not sure…it's like it was cloudy. I can remember some bits but I'm not sure which order they go in."

"Tell me and I'll help you get them in the right order."

Dean nods as if there is nothing unusual in it. He seems to be waiting for something; he looks like he's thinking ,working things out in his own mind before he starts. "I remember you were hurt, I didn't stop it. Someone was hitting you in the street. Your eye was bad, is it okay now?" he sounds worried again. His hands start to fiddle with the sheets until Sam drops his hand gently on top of them to keep them still.

"You did stop it Dean. You kicked him away and then when he didn't stop, you killed him to save me."

"Too late. I'm sorry, Sammy."

"Not too late, Dean. You were helping Dad, you came as quick as you could. You saved me." He squeezes his brother's hand hoping the physical affirmation will help Dean believe him. "What else do you remember?"

"A motel. You were having a nightmare about some children. Did we help them? Did you work out where they were? I can't remember any more about the children, Sam. Were we too late? Where were they?"

"We didn't need to go to help the children, Dean. It was just a message, not a warning. Just something I needed to know."

"I stopped you going to help them."

"No you didn't. Really. We didn't need to go anywhere to help them."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely sure."

"We were in a cabin with Dad, there was a fight. Dad was so angry. Oh god Sam! I…I…" Sam leans forward to hold his brother as he sees the tears begin a slow trickle from his eyes, which gradually speeds up to a torrent.

"Tell me Dean, what is it?"

"He's disgusted in me, isn't he? Is he here? Can I tell him? Will he see me? I let you get hurt, Sam. I'm sorry."

"Sssh! Stop Dean, it's okay. You didn't do anything wrong. You looked after me, you've always looked after me, kept me safe and…"

"You were hurt. You were on the wall. Sam, are you alright? What did it do to you?"

"Sssh! Calm down Dean, I wasn't hurt not really. You were hurt though, do you remember that? You distracted it from me and it hurt you. Do you remember it?"

Dean looks slightly confused but one hand goes to the bandages on his chest and Sam covers it with his own and says, "Yes. It cut you up bad, very bad, Dean. You nearly died, but you fought really hard to stay with us."

Sam only just catches the barely whispered "useless" and then moments later "failed him, disappointed him." Sam holds on, not letting go as he feels Dean start to sob again. He thinks back to the night he carried his brother to the car from the cabin and how he had struggled under the weight of his strong and powerful brother and he holds tight to the brother in his arms who is a shadow of who he was. His illness has robbed him of some of his bulk and strength over the intervening weeks so he seems physically lighter and smaller but it has also broken emotional walls that Dean has been building since he was four, leaving him vulnerable and shattered. Sam wonders if he'll ever be Dean again, wonders what it will take to help him rebuild. Hearing a movement behind him, he sees Bobby closing the door as he retreats, instead of joining them, giving them some peace. Something more that Dean will need protecting from, he will need to believe that the only person who has seen him broken is Sam if he is to ever be the Dean he was before again.

Sam thinks that's quite ironic, because the people who would help them now, would not judge Dean and find him wanting, they would marvel at his strength and courage from such a young age. The only person who has ever believed that Dean wasn't good enough was John Winchester and right now, he's nowhere to be found, despite being the principal cause of the damage.

Gradually, Dean quietens and Sam helps him to lean back against the pillows. He sees the tear-streaked cheeks and reddened eyes against the pallor of Dean's skin and he can feel almost a fever burning off of his forehead. "Just sit back Dean, I'm just going to get something to help you cool down a bit, it'll help you feel better."

"Don't go, Sam, please." There is desperation in his voice.

"I'm not going out; I'll talk to you the whole time. I'm just going to get a wet cloth to help you feel a bit better." Sam prises his hand out from Dean's death grip and continues to talk as he moves across the room to the sink where he picks up a cloth and runs it under the cold water. He doesn't stop talking as he wrings the water out and returns to Dean's side. "Here. Wipe that across your face and then leave it to rest over your eyes and forehead. It should help you feel a bit better."

Dean does exactly as he's told and rests his head back on the pillows again. One hand returns to its position on the bandages covering his chest whilst the other finds a point of contact with Sam. "Sorry, I…I don't know what's the matter with me."

"It's okay Dean. You've been really sick; it'll be because of that. Don't worry." Sam doesn't care whether it's got anything to do with Dean being sick or not. Dean has earned the right to some release from the pain, but he also has the right to try and retain his dignity and if stretching the truth and blaming it on his illness helps then Sam will lead the way in that little game.

* * *


	10. Is This What the Future Will Be Like?

**_There's a Way Through to the Other Side In The End _**

**_

* * *

_**

**_Disclaimer_**: Supernatural doesn't belong to me, nor do Dean, Sam, or the other characters you recognise. I am making no money so please don't come looking for me.

* * *

**_Warning_**: some violence as the story progresses

**_Spoilers_** - post-end of Series 1 Devil's Trap so some passing mention of events in Season episodes such as Faith, Home, Devil's Trap etc.

**_Thanks_** to all who have offered feedback, adviceand to Rae Artemis for her support.

* * *

**_Chapter 10 – Is this what the future will be like? _**

As the day wears on, Dean stays awake for longer stretches. Each time he wakes, he seems more lucid. He remembers more, although he seems reluctant to talk anymore than he has to. Whilst he accepts, without question or complaint, the presence of other people in his room, doctor, nurses, Bobby, he becomes anxious whenever Sam is out of sight. It's an even bigger worry that he either can't or won't explain why.

Each time he sleeps, he awakens after no more than 30 minutes. The further through the day they go, the more sudden his waking seems each time. Eventually, Sam watches him jolt almost upright from sleep and grab his chest in pain, where the sudden movement has pulled on the healing wounds again. "Dean, whoa! Calm down. You okay? You dreaming there?"

Dean looks at Sam, as his breathing gradually settles. He checks out every detail of his brother's face as if trying to find some lost piece of information that only Sam knows. Then he lies down and turns away, folding in on himself as if to shut out the world, despite the discomfort of his injuries. Sam isn't going to leave it at that. He knows the best opportunity for helping Dean is now, before he is well enough to start putting the walls back up. So Sam moves from the chair to sit on the bed next to Dean. He rests one hand on Dean's shoulder and he talks quietly about his own nightmares. All the time, he is aware of the tension in the body beneath his hand. He talks about the nightmares and visions he had before Jessica had died and about the ones that came after. He tells Dean about the ones he locked away inside, the ones that ate away at his insides leaving him bitter and lonely and how it was Dean who had managed to finally get through and help him, draw him back out. He says that gradually the nightmares have receded and that when Dean's ready to talk, Sam is ready to listen.

Dean shivers and remains silent, but he unfolds his body a little, although he remains on his side facing away from Sam. Sam flexes the hand that is resting on Dean's shoulder to renew the circulation to his fingers. Dean's hand snatches at it to keep it there although Sam had no intention of removing it; instead he rubs circles on Dean's back hoping to ease some of the tension there. Dean lies still, neither encouraging nor discouraging Sam's actions. After a few minutes, Sam begins to talk again, talking about a summer when they had stayed at Bobby's. He recalls how relaxed it had been and the things they had done; the mundane, the mischief and the fun. Sam's hoping that this will make it easier for Dean to adjust to the idea of moving to Bobby's because he hasn't mentioned it yet. At the moment, he isn't sure what Dean will think when he does. Gradually, some of the tension releases and Dean shifts position. It's only a fraction but he moves away from the edge of the bed, back towards Sam, and moves so that more of him is in contact with Sam. Sam asks to be sure that is his intention, "You comfy there? Do you want me to move out of your way?"

"No. Can you stay?"

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"No, I mean…" Sam sees him flush slightly, as if he'd been going to say something but has thought better of doing it.

"What are you thinking, Dean? Tell me, huh."

"You're not uncomfortable?"

"I'm…" Sam was going to say he was fine, when he suddenly thinks that maybe he knows what Dean was thinking, "Dean, do you remember when we were kids and we used to sit on the bed to watch TV? You know, when one of us would lean against the headboard and the other would rest in their lap? We could sit like that now. I think it would be easier, I could rest my back that way, if you're up for it." Dean doesn't say anything, but slowly adjusts his position to allow Sam access to the bed, before settling back leaning on his brother. The tension ebbs from his muscles as he relaxes.

"Sam?" Sam runs his fingers through Dean's hair by way of acknowledgement. "When are you going?"

"I'm not. The nurses won't mind if I stay tonight, so long as I don't cause them any trouble. So unless you want me to go, I'll be here."

"No, I mean going… properly, back to school and everything?"

"I'm not going anywhere without you. We're not going anywhere until you're up to it."

"You need to go back to school. You said before, you don't want this. You should go, you need to find somewhere to live and to get your stuff organised."

"Ssh, I'm not leaving you. You're too important to me to just leave behind, and I've learnt a lot since I said that. I know that I can't leave this life behind me completely like I thought I could. And you know what, I don't want to leave it behind me, but I do want more than just this. I want us to have somewhere to go home to; I want us to do things that aren't just hunting. I've realised something, when you said it would never be over, you were right, there will always be people that need saving, things that need someone who knows how to make them right. I want that, but I want us to have more than just that."

"No, you want to be a lawyer, you want a wife and children and... and… a...a house with a fence and with a dog."

"No, I thought I did, but they were childhood fantasies, Dean. I've grown up now. I don't need to be a lawyer, but I do want a job, a job I can own up to. A job where I meet people and have friends. Right now, I'm not worried about having a wife and kids, but yeah, maybe in the future, I might want them again. A dog? Not worried about the dog, I could take it or leave it. But a house? Not necessarily a house, but I do want us to have a home, I want somewhere to live, somewhere we like coming back to, somewhere that I've changed the décor and that we've put things in to make it ours."

"Where will you go?" Dean's voice sounds brittle, as fragile as Sam has realised he is at the moment, and Sam has also realised that Dean's only hearing parts of what he's being told.

"Dean, listen. I want a home for us, not for me, for us. I want us to decorate it, maybe have our own rooms – 'cos I don't know that we'll agree on decorations and stuff. I don't want band posters everywhere." He smiles fondly at his brother, hoping he'll see the teasing. "Somewhere with food and beer in the fridge, and books on a shelf, not just hunting books, but other books too, books we want to read or have read. Pictures in frames, pictures of friends, of Mom, all of it. But I want it for us, not just for me."

Sam sees a lone tear escape from Dean's eye, before he has time to wipe it away. "No Sam, I can't."

"_We_ can."

"You should go. It's a good dream. I like it."

"Then why wouldn't I wait for you?"

"I can't have it. I can't want that."

"Dean. Why would you say that?"

"Anything I want…" he stops. Sam gently draws him closer, hoping it will encourage him to continue. "I can't, Sam. You should…"

"Why not? Tell me Dean. Why can't we do it together?"

"I'd spoil it."

"Why would you think that?"

"I do, it's true. I make you unhappy. I let you and Dad down all the time. I couldn't do anything right. Mom left, and when we saw her, she came for you. She thinks I'm a disappointment. I can't have that with you, I'd ruin it."

"That's not true. None of it. You don't make me unhappy, the opposite, Dean. All my good memories of being a kid are good memories about things we did, or you did for me; of how safe and protected you made me feel. All the time since I've come back, I've liked being in your company. Sometimes, I even like the way you tease me, I like the jokes and wisecracks. I don't like either of us getting hurt and I don't like that you're so unhappy. I don't like that you don't know how important you are. I don't like that you were in so much pain and were getting sicker and you wouldn't tell me the truth."

"You're wrong. It's my fault. Dad…"

Sam puts a finger over Dean's lips to stop him, "I'm not wrong. You can have this, you just need to give it a try. I'll be there with you, we'll do it together. We can find a way to make it work to have a life and to hunt. We're too good to give up hunting, but we can have the rest. We'll find a way."

"Dad…"

"No Dean. It's nothing to do with Dad. Dad's not going to be there. It's not his call, not any more. We're adults, Dean; it's up to us now."

"He wants us to…"

"No. Dean, Dad's thrown away his last chance as far as I'm concerned. We don't need him anymore, and he's cast aside any right to be considered a father."

"He's hunting."

"Probably."

"I haven't seen him since…"

"Dean, Dad's gone. We're not important enough to him. We were still in hospital and he left. He only cares about us as tools to help him in his war; not as people and certainly not as sons."

"My fault…"

"How? How is this your fault?" Sam realises his anger at his father for bringing Dean to this point, has crept back into his voice and so he tries to say it again, calmer and more reassuring, "What would make you think that?"

"I let him down. I was supposed to look out for you. I let you get hurt and then you left."

"Dean, what happened when I left?"

"Nothing. I'm tired Sam."

"Okay. Sleep and I'll be here when you wake up again." Sam knows Dean is trying to avoid talking, but he looks tired again too. He gives in to Dean's request without question. Fighting Dean and making him say things he isn't ready for isn't going to help right now. Time is what they need; Sam just hopes there will be enough before Dean's walls go back up.

* * *

Sam can't be sure, but he's got a sneaking suspicion that Nurse Rosie gave Dean something last night to knock him out. He's glad because rather than waking every 30 minutes, Dean slept through and hasn't woken yet. Every time Sam checked, he seemed to be sleeping peacefully. Now however, the same can't be said. Sam is reluctant to let Dean sleep any longer, as he's fairly confident that Dean is having a nightmare, judging by the way he's muttering and fidgeting. Sam was hoping he'd come out of it himself, but it doesn't look like that's going to happen easily.

"No! Sam!" Well, it solved Sam's problem of whether to wake him or not, but this is not the best start to Dean's day they could have had. It's fortunate that he leapt up and from the bed in the direction he did, because Sam was able to catch him as he staggered forward, legs not ready to take his weight, reflexes not completely tuned in. "Sam." Dean sounds lost and Sam wonders if he is really awake even now. As he holds him, Sam can hear the sharp panting inhalations of another panic and the racing beat of his brother's heart.

He turns Dean to sit in the chair he has just vacated himself. "Dean, you awake now?" He waits and watches as he sees Dean try to pull himself together. "Hey dude. What was that about?"

Dean says nothing yet, just reaches out and puts his hand on Sam's arm, as if checking he's solid. Then he nods. "Sorry, Sam." He grimaces. "Got carried away there. Don't know quite what I was thinking. Are you okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Sam shakes his head. "I'm fine. What about you?"

Sam's still worried by the distracted look on his face, then things just carry on getting worse. Maybe it's not Dean that's having the bad day, maybe it's Sam, because Dean's just started in on the one topic of conversation Sam really doesn't want to tackle with him right now. "Where's Dad?" Sam sighs but doesn't answer. "Sam, I…I need to…to talk to him. I've got…to tell him. I need him to see." Sam wonders how exactly you tell your brother that your Dad, the man he's hero-worshipped forever, doesn't care enough to be here for him.

"Dean, maybe we should get you back into bed. What do you think?" Dean looks surprised at the suggestion. Then he looks and sees the bed and the chair he's sitting in and the surprise turns to shock. Sam can see him trying to work out how he got from one to the other. "Come on, I'll give you a hand back." Sam leans down to help him up. Dean is lifting his arm to drape it over Sam's shoulders, when he gasps in pain. "What? What is it?" His other hand has gone up to his chest. "I'm calling the nurse." Dean's hand stops him and a shake of the head tells him to wait.

"Sorry. It's okay. I think I just bumped it on something… you maybe… when you caught me. It's fine. Nothing. Just took me by surprise is all. I'm ready now, will you help me?" Sam leans over again and this time they make it back to the bed without incident.

"I'm still calling the nurse, she needs to come and check the dressings on there anyway," he says truculently as he points at Dean's chest.

Sam leans over his brother to press the call button. Dean stops his return movement with a hand on his arm, "I didn't mean to…" he can't explain it, so he waves his hand indiscriminately to indicate the whole leaping out of bed thing, "I'm sorry Sam."

Sam just pats him on the shoulder and gives him a wry smile and shake of the head. "I'm sure she'll be here in a minute. Then she can check that. But you're going to have to tell me what you're dreaming about man. That was one hell of a leap you took from the bed there." Dean's hand is still resting on Sam's and he seems reluctant to let go, but he does lean back against the pillows.

"That's given me a headache," he says and turns to the door, letting go of Sam's arm as nurse Honey comes in.

"Well, look who it isn't! Decided to come and play now have you, Honey?" she has the biggest smile on her face. "So, tell me, Dean, how are you feeling this morning?"

He flashes his biggest fake grin and takes a breath to start talking, when she puts her hand up to stop him. "I want the truth, Dean, don't you go making up some pretend story about feeling fine. Your colour's all wrong for being fine, so tell me what hurts and what does feel right?" Sam is relieved that she isn't going to fall for any nonsense from his brother.

"I've got a headache," he says, it isn't enough for Sam's liking but at least he's trying to be honest, years of Dad's 'suck it up' mentality and he probably doesn't really know what counts as needing to be said anymore.

Sam decides to chip in and help. "He was confused when he woke up and he tried to get up. I caught him, but I think I might have hit his chest as I did." Confused is probably an understatement for the state he was in when he woke, but at least now she knows to check out his clarity and his chest injuries.

She's all business now, moving swiftly about her work. Throughout the ministrations, she is gentle and talks to Dean about what she is doing and what she'll do next. She doesn't touch him, without him knowing it's going to happen. Sam doesn't know what has made her so solicitous, but he thanks her for it silently right now. For all Sam knows what happened to him, the Dean lying in that bed is not the one he's known his whole life. Once she has checked him out, but before she starts on his chest, she says she thinks he needs to get clean at the same time, suggesting that maybe Sam should wait outside. That's all it takes for Dean to panic, the merest hint of Sam going anywhere without him, Sam being out of sight. It still isn't clear though what he's frightened of when he gets like this and Sam knows he's going to have to find out, because sooner or later, he is going to have to step out of the room.

Nurse Honey steps out to get everything she needs and Sam sits down as close as he can to Dean on the bed. "Dean, I'm going to have to nip out. I'll only be gone a couple of minutes. I need a bathroom and I'll grab something to eat whilst I'm out, I'll be back before you know it. So, think you can handle it?" That is the point at which Sam realises Dean knows he shouldn't be reacting like this, but that he has little control over it. "What are you thinking about, Dean? When I, you know? What are you thinking about? Let me help you."

He shakes his head, but it isn't clear whether this is to say no, he won't say, or whether it's that he can't explain. Then he speaks, which certainly takes Sam by surprise. "This morning." He pauses; he's obviously not finding it very easy. "When I woke up. I didn't know where I was. I thought I'd lost you and you were hurt. I thought the Rawhead got you."

"Which Rawhead, Dean? We haven't seen one since…"

"I dreamt it happened again. That I fell in that water, my heart… you know… but that it, the Rawhead, didn't die or there was another one, I can't remember now. I do remember that it got you and you died because I was stupid."

"Dean, you just have to keep saying to yourself it didn't happen that way. You know what happened. Is that what you've been dreaming about all yesterday as well?"

"Not that one but ones like it." He looks at Sam's confusion and tries to explain, "I see them, different ones each time, there's so many. All the mistakes I've made; all the times I've fucked up and each time you die or are hurt so badly, Sam, and it's all my fault."

"No Dean. You have to keep remembering it's not true, it didn't happen. They weren't your fault. Sometimes things happen, it doesn't matter how well you prepare, or how careful you are, things just happen. It's not your fault."

Sam is taken by surprise at the fierce grasp Dean gets on his wrist, "I could have got you killed!" His words are vehement, "I'm supposed to look after you, but you keep getting hurt. You mustn't trust me any more Sammy. I can't be trusted to do my job properly. Dad will tell you, he'll look after you, Sammy." His voice tails off from loud to a mutter that Sam can barely make out, "Fucking useless idiot, can't be trusted, supposed to keep him safe, can't even do that" his voice rambles on quietly, echoing the demon he is listening to, but no longer aware of precisely what he's saying, or of Sam sitting there watching him, holding him.

Sam hears the door go and turns to Honey as she comes in. "I'm sorry. Can we have ten minutes? He tried to tell me something and…" She looks up and sees Dean lost in his own world, muttering and twisting the sheet in one hand. She puts down the things she's carrying and starts to come to Dean's side, when Sam puts his hand up to stop her. "I think I can help him, please just let me try, a few minutes…If he's no better then you can whatever… just let me have a few more minutes alone with him."

She nods and walks back to the door, "I'll be back in a couple of minutes to see what's happening." She pulls the door to behind her.

"Dean, I know you can hear lots of things, but I want you to try and listen to just my voice, just Sam's voice, right? Concentrate on that." He doesn't know what he's going to say, but he's got to try something. "Do you remember that painting up near New York? The family portrait, which was murdering anyone who owned it? Do you remember how you saved me and Sarah, when we were locked in the house with the girl? You saved us both. You pulled me from the fire, Dean, when Jess died, when Mom died. You didn't fail then. Both times you saved me."

"Sammy?"

"Dean, don't listen to Sammy, listen for Sam. He's grown up, listen for him."

"Sammy nearly died in the fire."

"Nearly, but he didn't Dean, because you took him out. You kept him safe from the fire."

"Put him in my arms. Momma always said to be gentle, Dean, hold him carefully. Keep him nice and still, talk to him. I wanted to carry him safely. Don't fall, mustn't fall and hurt the baby. Daddy said, 'Don't look back, Dean', 'Take your brother outside.' I tried."

"You did it, Dean, you saved him. You didn't mess up. Do you remember in the apartment? When it got Jessica? I just froze, I couldn't move at all. All I could think about was her on the ceiling, and then you were there, Dean. You got me out again."

"Useless. He loved her and you didn't stop it, you left her to die. Not safe, even at Stanford, not safe. Your fault he's there, Dean, you should have stopped him. Not fit to be a brother, worthless, good-for-nothing. Where have you been, Dean? Check he's safe, charms, sigils, protecting him, like you said." Sam realises that Dean is trapped now in some sort of waking nightmare. He's triggered exactly the sort of memory he was trying to avoid. What makes it worse is that he's only got the faintest idea of what is happening from Dean's words and reactions, and he doesn't like what he's heard so far.

He pulls Dean up, holding him by the upper arms, and tries to see into his eyes, tries to draw his attention back to the hospital room they're in and away from his memories. "Dean, Dean! It's Sam, look at me! I need you here quickly. Help me Dean!" It's a low blow, but it does the trick. Sam feels like a traitor. He's played to his brother's weak point, his anxieties and pretended he's in trouble, so that Dean will put aside the torment he's in to help Sam. It has the desired effect though and Sam sees as Dean tries to evaluate the threat.

"Dean, I was frightened." He says it simply, truthfully. "I couldn't help you, you were trapped and I couldn't help you out." Dean's eyes are confused, but they are looking at Sam and not at a memory. He looks like he's trying to check Sam for injuries. Sam waits quietly until he seems to finish.

"You were frightened." It isn't what Sam expects him to say. "Why?"

"You were upset, I couldn't help you."

"Doesn't matter, Sam. It's okay." He looks calmer, but Sam isn't sure until he feels completely side-swiped by the next statement, "Dad isn't here, Sam, he's gone. He won't come here. You should go find him so you'll be safe then."

"What about you, Dean? What will keep you safe?" He gets no answer, but Dean moves away out of his grasp.

"Where is she?" It's hard to follow when Dean leaves so few clues to what he's thinking now. "She said you had to go." He can hear the tremor in Dean's voice increasing. Despite the fact that the words are telling Sam to leave, Sam can still hear that Dean doesn't want to let his brother go.

"The Nurse? She'll be back in a minute, okay. Listen to me, Dean. I'm not going to leave the hospital, right. I'm going to take a quick trip to the cafeteria and I'll bring us both back something. What do you fancy? A soda? Some fries? I'll race you, see if I can get back before you finish with the Nurse. What do you think?"

"O.J."

"What? That's what you want? That's all. You're making it easy for me. We should bet money on this." He smiles. Dean still looks like he's thinking too hard, but he's not saying anything and his breathing is controlled.

Nurse Honey enters just moments later, "Hey, you two. So, Dean, are you ready for me to look you over and check you out?"

He nods, then looks at Sam and with absolute finality says, "Bye Sam."

She looks almost as shocked as Sam does at the statement, "Honey, he's coming back. He's not leaving."

Sam tries to reassure him, "I'm just going to get that breakfast, O.J. for you, remember? Sure you don't want pancakes or something? I'll be real quick. We'll race, see who's ready first?" It's like bargaining with a child, rather than talking to his older brother. He casts a look at Nurse Honey and sees her nod her understanding. She can't finish, she can't leave until Sam's back. Dean has to believe that Sam's not leaving him; they have to prove to him that if he says he's coming back he will.

* * *

Sam's lucky; the cafeteria is fairly empty. He grabs himself a coffee and something vaguely resembling a Danish, gets two O.J.s, because they make them up fresh and they actually look appetising. He sees some M&Ms and grabs a pack for Dean. He's at the till and paying and on his way back up to Dean's floor within eight minutes.

As he approaches the room, he can't hear anything, he knocks and goes in and sees Nurse Honey checking over Dean's chest. "See Honey, I told you he would come back. Not the type to say he'll come back if he isn't going to, your brother, now is he?" Dean doesn't say a word, but his eyes follow Sam.

"How's it going?" Sam asks.

"Well, Honey. Your brother here has done just fine. He's all cleaned up and I'm just fixing the last of this dressing." Her attention focuses on Dean. "Now you remember, real careful today. It's healing well, don't spoil it by knocking it again. There's no real harm done this time, but it won't stand up to another bash like that."

As she stands back from the bed, finishing fixing the covers, he says, "Thank you."

"It'll be alright Dean. Just give it a bit of time." He nods. "Now breakfast? What are you going to have for breakfast? I see you've got some O.J. but you need something to eat. What would you like?" He just grimaces. "Let me put it this way, Honey. You can give me a clue as to what you would like to eat or I get to choose what you eat, 'cos one thing's for sure, you are having some breakfast today."

"I'm tired."

"All the more reason to eat something, otherwise you'll always be tired."

As far as Dean arguments go, it's token. He really doesn't have the energy to fight, "Toast."

"Good, toast it is."

* * *

**_Author's note:_** So I'm not sure about this chapter - not sure I've got Dean right, but anyway the storymoves on a bit further if nothing else and I can't keep re-writing this chapter or it'll never end. At least, Dean's making some improvements. 


	11. Thinking Too Much

**_There's a Way Through to the Other Side In The End _**

**_

* * *

_**

**_Disclaimer_**: Supernatural doesn't belong to me, nor do Dean, Sam, or the other characters you recognise. I am making no money so please don't come looking for me.

* * *

**_Warning_**: some violence as the story progresses

**_Spoilers_** - post-end of Series 1 Devil's Trap so some passing mention of events in Season episodes such as Faith, Home, Devil's Trap etc.

**_Thanks_** to all who have offered feedback andadvice and to Rae Artemis for her support.

* * *

**_Chapter 11 – Thinking too much_**

Dean knows he's being stupid. He knows that Sam keeps telling him the same things over and over again, but sometimes he just feels so confused. Sam won't tell him where Dad is, but Dean thinks he knows.

He remembers the cabin, the things Dad and the Demon said. He can remember bits of the journey in the car, Dad angry with Sam, Sam repeating what Dean had told him earlier, Dad ignoring Dean. He remembers seeing Sam looking in the rear-view mirror trying to catch his eyes; h 'd tried to keep looking, holding on, for Sam's sake. Then he remembered lights and noise.

Everything since then is fuzzy. He knows, because Sam and the nurses have told him, he left hospital and they were staying in a motel, but he doesn't remember much about it. Apparently, he gave all the nurses new names when he was here the first time. When they tell him the names he gave them, he can see how he picked them, but he can't remember why he didn't just learn their real names. They seem friendly enough, kind enough, so he smiles and tries to answer their questions. They keep asking him if he's okay, how he feels, telling him he's got to tell them the truth; he's not sure what the truth is. Dad's always told him not to whine, to suck it up and get on but if he says he's fine, they tell him not to lie. He isn't sure what they want him to say, what he's allowed to say. It's easier when Sam's here; Sam seems to know what they're allowed to tell the nurses. All Dean can remember is that there are rules and rule number one is 'we do what we do and we shut up about it' but Sam seems to know how that works. Either that or he's decided to ignore it, Dean supposes that might be possible, Sam used to argue with Dad a lot. Maybe he's breaking the rules.

Dean knows he's supposed to look out for Sam, keep him safe, but he can barely keep himself together from one minute to the next, how's he supposed to look after Sam. He feels stupid. Every time Sam walks out of sight, he panics, even when Sam has told him where he's going and how long he'll be gone. Dean is frustrated, because he can't stop himself, even though he knows it's wrong. He can't explain it, Sam keeps asking but it isn't any clearer. It's sort of confusing. It might be that he's worried that Sam's going to leave but Sam wouldn't say he was coming back if he wasn't. Dean knows that. He knows that if Sam is leaving he'll be honest because Sam is honest; when it matters he won't pull the punches, he won't say he's staying if he's not. It might be that he's worried that something is going to happen to Sam but he knows Sam can look after himself in most situations and there's no sign of any demons in the hospital so far and Bobby's here and he'd know. It's not like he'd be any safer here because Dean really isn't up to protecting him right now. It might be just that he's afraid to be on his own because when Sam's here, he's closer to knowing what's real. He's not always sure but Sam seems to know that, seems to be able to help him work out what's real without saying that's what he's doing.

Dean thinks Sam knows about some of the noise in his head. It's so loud all the time. There's so much shouting, Dad's pissed, the Demon's just plain vindictive, Sammy is needy and there's Sam and Pastor Jim and so many people. Dean knows they aren't really there because they can't be, because Pastor Jim's dead, Sammy and Sam are the same person so they can't both be there and Sam is in the room with him most of the time so that would make three of them and Dean isn't that stupid. But he is because he keeps getting sucked into it and the only way out is when Sam helps him out.

Dean's tired, but he doesn't want to sleep because that just makes it worse. It's like with the voices, only worse. He knows if he thinks about it really hard, he can work out the truth but when he keeps seeing something different to what he thinks he remembers, it gets hard to work out what's right. He knows Sam didn't die with the Rawhead. Sam saved him, but when he falls asleep and he sees Sam dead, he's just scared and then he sees Sam and he has to touch him just to make sure he's not dead really. He knows that every time he falls asleep, there's another nightmare waiting. Some of them he knows even as he watches them play out, that there's no way they can have happened because Sam went to Stanford, he wasn't at those jobs. They can't be real, but Dean is still being stupid.

Dean wants to tell Sam, wants to ask Sam what's happening. Sam's smart, he'll be able to work it out but half the time Dean can't work out where to start or what to say and the other half there are other people here and Dean's trying to hold it together because it's bad enough that Sam will think he's lost it without everyone knowing it. Dean still wants to ask Sam about Dad, but that just makes Sam pissed but Dean wants to be sure he's right. Maybe that's something he could ask someone else, maybe one of the nurses or maybe Bobby. Dean can't remember whether Dad and Bobby are getting on at the moment. He remembers Bobby threatening Dad with a shotgun. It would have been funny if it weren't for real and if it hadn't been about… yeah well… maybe he better not ask Bobby right now, or at least not until he can remember whether they sorted that out.


	12. Two Steps Forward, One Step Back

**_There's a Way Through to the Other Side In The End _**

**_

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_**

**_Disclaimer_**: Supernatural doesn't belong to me, nor do Dean, Sam, or the other characters you recognise. I am making no money so please don't come looking for me.

* * *

**_Warning_**: some violence as the story progresses

**_Spoilers_** - post-end of Series 1 Devil's Trap so some passing mention of events in Season episodes such as Faith, Home, Devil's Trap etc.

**_Thanks_** to all who have stuck with the story so far - only three more chapters to go after this one.

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**_Chapter 12 – Two steps forward, one step back_**

Sam's fairly happy right now, all things taken into consideration. Dean's chest wound is still healing. Bobby says there's no sign of Dad. Dean is staying awake for longer and seems to be more coherent when they talk…most of the time anyway. Sam can still see the fear in his eyes when he leaves the room, but Dean's got it under more control. He isn't freaking out and that alone is a big improvement. When he does fall asleep, he is still having nightmares, but he's made no more death-defying leaps from the bed.

The other good thing is he is trying to talk about it, seems to want to talk, unheard of in the usual Dean Winchester code of behaviour. He's finding it hard to explain, and Sam can understand that, after all he's not used to talking about how he's feeling and he's confused. He seems to be struggling with even some of the basic conversations with the nurses. Sam can't work that out, Dean's always been confident to the point of being downright obnoxious around women, but right now he's struggling to string a sentence together in front of them, straightforward sentences about what hurts and whether he needs anything.

Sam wants him to wake up calm this time, so that they can talk without anyone else around and without Dean having to pull himself back together first. He's hoping that if Dean is calm and there's no-one else around maybe some of the things Dean wants to tell him will be easier. Certainly, some of the questions he wants to ask will certainly be easier to deal with without witnesses.

He runs his hand through Dean's hair, wondering at how familiar that gesture has become over the last few days and how he wouldn't dream of doing it in 'real life', because there's no way this is 'real life'. This can't be real. He is watching as Dean's eyes open slowly, relieved. "Sam?" His throat sounds hoarse again, so Sam reaches for the water to hold it out for him, helping him sit up a bit to make it easier.

"No nightmare – that's good right?" Sam says to him, when he's finished with the water.

"Not so bad, I knew, I knew it wasn't real." So not as good as Sam had hoped ,but an improvement. At least this time, Dean was able to tell it was just a nightmare.

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

"Sam." Sam just waits quietly as if to say 'no rush, no pressure, take your time,' he watches Dean's face. "You were thinking, Sam."

"What?"

"Before, what were you thinking about?"

"You. I was thinking about what I could do to help you get better. What do you want me to do?"

"Sam, do you want to go?"

"No." Sam says it calmly, no fuss. He means it, whatever has happened, whatever is going to happen, one thing he is sure of, he doesn't want to leave Dean alone.

"What if… what if I'm not right? Sam, I can hear things, even when I'm awake, I can hear things. They're not here. Sometimes I know that. Sometimes I find it hard to know which ones are here and which ones aren't. Sometimes they're just so loud, I can't hear anything else, even you."

"I still won't want to go."

"Maybe it means I'm…"

"Whatever it means, Dean, we'll find a way. But I don't think it does mean anything like that. I think it's… just everything that's happened. Tell me about it. What do you hear?"

"You'll think I'm…" he gestures at his head, "Voices. I can hear voices." His face shows defeat, Sam rests a hand on his arm, soothing.

"I still think you'll be okay. What are they saying?"

"Just stuff. Stupid really. I should be able to tell if it's true or not, right?"

"Maybe." Sam knows that it isn't going to be that easy for him, knows that years of Dad's put downs have left Dean expecting the worst so when the voices criticise and complain, it won't be a surprise, it's what he expects to hear. "Tell me more."

"Dad's not here, right?" Sam nods in agreement. Dean frowns, "I can hear him like he is though. When he left… he isn't dead, you didn't say he was dead, when we crashed…"

"No, Dean, he isn't dead but he isn't here either. He's gone."

"He was pissed with me, when he left?"

"He was pissed with me when he left. So what's new? He spends his life either pissed or pissed off."

"I let him down."

"Only 'cos he's a son of a bitch who doesn't recognise a good son when one's standing in front of him. Is that what he's saying in there?" Sam points at Dean's head.

"Sort of."

Sam smirks, then says conspiratorially, "If I were you, I'd ignore him. He always did talk a load of crap, some things never do change." Dean thinks for a moment, then smiles back at his brother. Sam relieved that if only for a moment, Dean has accepted that Dad is not perfect and that they can be brothers and they can joke about it. He presses on, "So anyone else knocking around in that pretty little head of yours?"

"Yeah."

"Anyone I know?"

"The Demon."

"Tell me you're not listening to the crap that thing comes out with," his voice is softly chiding. He knows Dean has been listening to it, falling into the trap that's been laid for him, but he knows for Dean's sake, he's got to make like Dean is still strong enough to resist.

"The things it says, they sound so real, so…" he struggles with how to explain, "like Dad."

"Dean, that night in the cabin, when the Demon said that you needed us more than we needed you, it's not true. Well, I can't speak for Dad, wouldn't want to, but I can speak for me, I need you, I always have. Even when I went away, I wanted you there; I just wanted to make you proud of me so I stuck it out. I have **_always_** needed you, relied on you and not just because you are a kick-ass hunter but as a brother, **_my_** brother. With Mom gone, you did more for me than anyone else ever has. There is nothing more I could have asked for from you."

"Clothes that fit, food that wasn't burnt, friends, one school, a home…"

"No, Dean. Those were never yours to have to provide but you did. You made sure that I had clothes, clean clothes, that I had meals, not just packets of chips or diner food. You were my friend, when we didn't have any others and better than any other friend could have been, even when you were being a pain in the ass. You made sure that wherever we were was home. Home isn't just a place, a building. Home is about feeling secure, loved, protected – you made sure I had that.

"Dad…"

"No Dean, he didn't."

Dean's hands are twisting in the sheets again, so Sam rests his hand over the nearest of Dean's stilling its motion.

"You did good, Dean." There's a knock at the door, Sam leans back in his seat and calls "Come in," giving Dean a grin, hoping he will relax. "We'll be fine," he says quietly as the door opens.

Dean's eyes are on the door, anxiously, and Sam wonders who he thinks it might be. He sees the momentary glimpse of relief before they show nothing again as Bobby enters. "Alright boys? How are we doing? I've just been talking to some of those lovely nurses, mighty fine women they are too. So I was wondering if you two fancied some fresh air. Nurse Pauline, a wonderful woman, if I might say so, says if you feel up to it, Sport, we could grab a chair and take a walk outside in the gardens. I took the liberty of grabbing you some clothes from the motel in case you said yes."

Sam can hear the surprise in Bobby's voice as he recognises the look in Dean's eyes as fear. Sam's sorry for Dean, that right now, he can't hide anything; it's taking so much just to hold it together at all that everything is exposed in a way that no-one who knows Dean is used to. "I think that sounds like a great idea. The three of us, a few minutes away from this room, we won't need to be gone long, we could maybe grab a soda while we're out." Dean nods acceptance, and Sam knows how much effort that has taken.

"Right, there are your clothes, I shall go talk to that lovely lady about that wheelchair," he says, before backing out of the room.

"It'll be okay, Dean."

"I know."

"So you're alright then?"

"I just… Sam, I don't know what's the matter with me. I don't know why I can't just do things without… without feeling this way?"

Sam helps him get the clothes on. He moves slowly, stiffly, guarding his injuries awkwardly. "Dean, it's alright because even though you're feeling like that, you've still agreed to do it and I'll be there with you. I won't let anything hurt you."

"I know."

* * *

They are ready and waiting when Bobby and Nurse Honey return. "You've managed without me," she says. They've only managed because Dean agreed to stay in the hospital gown so long as he had on proper trousers, which meant they didn't have to fight with the IV lines or worry about catching his chest too much. "Let me sort this for you," she continues as she moves to sort out the IV bags and attaches them to the chair, before reaching to help Dean down from the bed to the chair.

"No, sorry," he says and reaches for Sam's shoulder to brace himself as he moves down himself. "Too heavy for you." He offers to her by way of explanation.

She accepts it without rebuke, instead fake whispering, "It's about time your little brother made himself useful after all these years, isn't it?"

Sam smiles and laughs, "Oh he ain't heavy, he's my brother."

Bobby and Nurse Honey both groan but Sam watches as Dean misses the exchange entirely in his effort to steel himself to face the world outside the room.

"Here, take this, just in case," she tucks a blanket over the back of the chair behind Dean, "just in case, it gets cool out. Now I need you to be back in…" she checks her watch, "no more than 45 minutes because you're due your next set of meds, okay Dean?"

"No more than 45 minutes," he repeats back to her with a nod. Sam wonders if maybe that was a good thing. Dean was doing his best to face up to this, despite his concerns, and now he knew there was a finite amount of time it could last. They set off and Sam hears him say again quietly, "no more than 45 minutes."

* * *

He would admit that it was good to be outside, to see the sky, breathe clean air without the disinfectant tang of the hospital and now he couldn't think why he'd been so worried about coming out when Bobby had suggested it. It didn't make sense. He'd never been one for staying still, always on the go, seeking some new thrill or challenge; yet since he'd come round, anything that didn't involve just lying still in his room, with Sam in sight, seemed to fill him with an irrational fear. He couldn't explain it when Sam asked because he didn't understand it himself but he would admit that this was good, sitting here in the sun, listening to Sam and Bobby talk. He wasn't really joining in more than an odd comment or reply to something they asked, but he was listening and they seemed okay with that too. He actually felt almost relaxed.

The three of them were sitting, eyes closed, soaking up the last of the year's warmth from the sun. Sam had insisted that Dean throw the blanket over him as it wasn't as warm as inside. Also apparently he'd always wanted to know what it would be like to mother hen someone who couldn't get away. Dean didn't object, much as he was enjoying the sun, he had been feeling quite cold. In fact he couldn't really remember the last time he'd not felt cold inside. It was before the cabin anyway, of that much he was sure.

He hears the hitch in Sam's voice that means something is wrong. His eyes shoot open as he looks round trying to see the threat. When he can't see anything, he brings his eyes back to settle on Bobby and Sam, who has calmed down again. "So is that enough fresh air for you, bro? Ready to go back in to that lovely nurse you've got waiting?" He nods his agreement, and looks round again as Sam pushes him back into the hospital. He notices that Sam heads for the nearest door and not back the way they had come but he still can't see what has clearly bothered both of his companions.

Once they were inside, he feels the change as Sam slows down the rate at which they are covering the ground. He feels his heart slow down, Sam's concern having transferred itself to his easily knocked sense of well-being. He wonders what it says about his skills as a hunter that he couldn't find anything outside that could be deemed a threat but he daren't ask, not sure he can deal with the answer,

"So, I'm going to leave you two for now," says Bobby. "I'll come by later. What do you reckon Dean, to you and I sitting and chewing the fat for a while and letting Sammy boy go off and eat some proper food before he wastes away to nothing. Sure that boy must have hollow legs." His tone is light, encouraging Dean to agree as if the question is not out of the ordinary.

Dean swallows and grips the arm of the chair, knowing. He answers, "Yeah, sounds good. You bring the booze and I'll supply the women." He figures it almost sounds like he means it. Sam squeezes his shoulder and he's not sure if that helps or makes it worse.

"See you later boys." Bobby vanishes away down the corridor while Sam and Dean wait for the elevator.

They are the only people in the elevator when it finally arrives. The cold feeling has settled further down over Dean, making him shiver every now and then. "You know, if you don't feel like it later, I'll stay. I don't have to go. I'll get Bobby to bring something with him."

"It's okay, Sam. It'll be okay. Bobby said he'd stay while you went and let's be honest, I've got to get used to it. I can't carry on like this."

"Yeah, but you don't have to do it all at once. We can do it bit by bit, Dean."

"Sam, we can't. This is no way to be. It's no way for you to have to live waiting for me to flip at the drop of a hat. I've got to get a grip."

"Ssh, Dean it'll be fine. The offer stands, see how you feel later. Nearly back now, I wonder what that Nurse has lined up for you now."

"God only knows." Sam is relieved to hear just that small amount of snark. That is typical of Dean.

* * *

Bobby leaves the boys. He and Sam both know what they've seen and they both know it's bad news. He isn't a fool and he doesn't think they've hidden from Dean that there is a problem. He saw the boy's eyes change, he was looking for the threat – he just didn't know what particular threat to look for. Bobby knows they'll be lucky if they can get Sam out of the room at all without Dean being asleep, but the fact that Dean is trying to play along for now is a step forward. He wonders how Sam is managing to hold it together at all, seeing his brother like this. Bobby is shocked by the change in Dean, the strength that was always so much a part of him has gone and it must have taken a hell of a lot to shatter it so completely.

For now though, his focus is on minimising the fallout of the latest problem. Neither of the boys needs this on top of everything else, so if he can he wants to sort it out without involving them at all. First stop is his car. He needs to get something lethal from the trunk. If they were somewhere less public, he'd go for lethal and painful, but he can't afford to mess around so quick and lethal seems to be the order of the day. Then he'll head to the parking lot of the nearest motel, it's as good a place as any to start and between there and the diner, it probably won't take long to find what he's looking for. This town isn't that big.

* * *

Nurse Honey is leaving, she's given Dean the latest set of meds, and taken his temperature, checked his stats. He's back in bed now with an extra blanket that she insisted he have. He doesn't know how to explain that he's cold inside, not out. The blankets don't make much difference, so instead he just goes along with what he's told. He's tired again anyway, but he wants to try and stay awake. If he can just get Sam's attention away from the window, maybe he'll talk and keep him awake.

"So, Sam."

"Yeah. You any warmer yet?"

"I'm fine."

"That wasn't the question."

"Look." He knows he sounds irritable, but right now, he can cope with irritable. It's better than frightened and it's better than detached. Right now, he can work with irritable. He can work with it, but he feels guilty because Sam doesn't deserve irritable because he's making it sound like its Sam's fault. "Blankets aren't going to do anything, I'm not cold."

He's losing it, _frightened_ is coming back, along with I. The need for Sam to be here and be solid, to let him lean on him. Dean realises how lucky he is, when Sam sits down on the bed next to him and rests his hand next to Dean's, not touching but near enough that Dean can sense it there, without looking at it. "So… not cold then…," he says after another tremor racks his brother's body.

"Not like you think" says Dean. Sam's face is expectant. "I'm not cold outside, I'm cold inside." Sam nods, it makes sense. He knows the feeling; he felt that way after Jess died.

"I know what that's like. It'll pass, it just takes time."

"So… outside… what did you see?"

Sam had hoped that Dean hadn't known that anything was the matter. He really didn't need this conversation right now, wanted the nurse to come in and check on Dean again. Anything, so he doesn't need to answer the question.

"It was probably nothing."

"Probably? But you're worrying anyway, so what is it, that it probably isn't?"

"Dad."

* * *

**_Author's Note: _**So is John back for good or ill?


	13. Running until you Stand Still

**_There's a Way Through to the Other Side In The End _**

**_

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_**

_**Disclaimer:** Supernatural doesn't belong to me, nor do Dean, Sam, or the other characters you recognise. I am making no money so please don't come looking for me._

_**

* * *

Warning:** some violence as the story progresses _

_**Spoilers -** post-end of Series 1 Devil's Trap so some passing mention of events in Season episodes such as Faith, Home, Devil's Trap etc._

_**Thanks** to all who have stuck with this story thus far._

_**

* * *

**__Chapter 13 – Running until You Stand Still_

"Dad." Sam's voice is resigned.

"Dad? We're running away from Dad?" Dean can't believe he has to say it, the idea is ridiculous.

"Not exactly. We didn't run."

"Run. Hide. Whatever. Sam, what's going on?"

"It's nothing. I just don't want to talk to him right now." Sam can hear what sounds like petulance in his own voice. He knows it's not going to help the situation with Dean, but he can hardly tell him what's really going on. He can just imagine how well that would turn out '_Yeah Dean, it's like this, see. Dad is here to collect me to go hunting with him, despite the fact, I despise the man. Why? Well that would be because he figures you're either dead or as good as. Oh, yeah, he's unlikely to stop by to pay his last respects because you're not important to him any more. Oh, and you know all those things I've been telling you about how good and strong you are, well Dad would probably disagree with me, because it seems that your memory of them is not too far off the mark.'_

"Sam, what aren't you telling me?"

Sam thinks it's almost funny, except it's not, because it hurts. It isn't going to stop hurting. In fact, it's only going to get worse, because there's no way out of this now without it hurting Dean, and the one thing Sam really didn't want was to hurt Dean anymore, because he's been hurt too much already. "Dean just leave it, you need some rest, just try and relax."

"Fuck you, Sam. Don't… just don't treat me like I'm a freakin' idiot. Tell me what's going on."

Sam sits on the edge of Dean's bed, looking at his brother. He hears the anger in his voice, sees the anger in his expression, but it doesn't reach his eyes. All he can see in Dean's eyes is fear and desolation.

He knows better than to try and use touch to soothe Dean's anger. The anger has made a hastily erected wall between them. Not a strong and unshakeable wall like Sam is used to, but a tenuous and vulnerable one, one that is much more precarious. Sam knows not to try and knock it down, if he wants to retain his brother's trust. He needs Dean to take the wall down or someone else to knock it down, so that he can be there to support Dean as it crumbles.

"Dean, we're better off without him right now," he offers by way of explanation, thinking it's not going to be enough, even as the words enter the space between them.

"You always think you are."

"Dean, please trust me." He doesn't know what else to say, he can't explain without shattering what's left of Dean, destroying him in a way he can't ever bring himself to do.

"I don't want to talk any more."

Sam moves from the bed at Dean's words with a sigh. "I'm sorry, Dean." He watches as Dean rolls to face away from him, curling as much as his injuries allow. "I'm sorry."

The two stay in silence, Dean lying facing the wall and Sam sitting in the chair looking at his back. Time drags on and neither can find the way to bridge the gap. In frustration, desperation and pain, Dean severs the link completely, "Maybe you'd better just go. You don't want to be here and I don't want you here, so go." He doesn't mean it. He doesn't want Sam to believe it. He wants Sam to come back and sit beside him on the bed and to talk about something else. He doesn't want to feel so alone in a room with his brother, but why would Sam want to do that for someone as pathetic as he is, so instead Dean tells him to go, sets him free and is devastated when Sam does just as he's told.

Sam hears Dean's words. He sees the unflinching surface of his back and mourns the loss of his brother. He stands and when he reaches the door, turns for one last look, one last hope that Dean will have turned or will say something further to contradict the words he has just uttered. There is nothing, no sign, so instead he says, "Goodbye Dean" and leaves.

It only takes a minute after he hears the door close for it to hit Dean what he's done, but it's a minute too long, a minute too late to call Sam back. As the enormity hits, so to does the panic. He feels it crash in around him, as his heart starts to race. Too late, he realises he can't call Sam back, in fact he can't call anyone at all, because he feels like he's drowning. There's no air and his heart is going to beat its way out of his chest. He's going to die and no –one will care because he was awful to Sam, the one thing he almost got right in his life. Sam is the one thing he is proud of, and has been as long as he can remember, Sam. Sam has never deserved any of this, any of what Dean threw at him. All Dean had ever wanted to do was protect him and let him be everything that he could be. Sam was his greatest achievement and his biggest failure and now he was gone.

* * *

It's fortunate for Dean, that they had reattached him to all the monitoring devices when they came back from outside. The monitor alerts the first nurse on duty, who rushes to his room, after signalling to her colleagues. It's Rosie. She saw his panic earlier and can guess from Sam's absence that that is the trigger. "Dean, stop it." She can see from the desperation in his eyes, the growing blue tinge that this time, he is too far gone to be able to find his way back. 

Worse still, she can see blood spotting through his gown, suggesting further damage to his injuries. Her colleagues have joined her, together they act, a well-designed unit, efficient and calm. Sorrowful, as they have to resort to sedation to stop Dean's desperation. Sedation allows them to calm him, keep him still, repair his injuries and get his breathing back under control. Sedation takes him away from the panic, fear and pain that he's been fighting, but it also stops him being able to fight his way back to his brother.

As his room clears of people, only Rosie remains. She perches on the edge of his bed and runs her fingers through his hair. "So what happened there, Dean? Where has Sam gone? I thought you were getting it under control, why did it go so far this time? Why has Sam gone leaving you like that?" She senses that Dean is still there, underneath the layers of medication and pain and hurt, but that he is more distant and detached than he has been. He's lost where only his family will be able to find him.

* * *

As Sam leaves the hospital, he reaches for his cell phone and turns it off. Right now, the only people who might call him are the people he doesn't want to speak to. He doesn't want to know what John has to say. He can't believe that after everything over the last few days, Dean has told him to go. He can't face Missouri or Bobby and tell them that he's let Dean tell him to go and he's left. 

In his heart, he knows that Dean is in pain and has sent him away in a twisted mess of self-defence and misguided delusions of protection for Sam. Dean is a mess, holding on by the faintest shred to his own sanity. Sam knows he should have been the bigger man. He should have breached that gap. He should have found his way back to Dean but he couldn't. This time his obstinacy won out and he decided that if Dean didn't need him, then he could get by without Dean. Sometimes a fleeting decision is made with no ill intent, but it becomes a decision that we can never forgive ourselves for.

Rosie sits with Dean for a while, talking even though she knows he is deeply sedated. She stays until someone pokes their head round. "Isabel, do you want to put a call through to his family? Or now he's okay, should we just leave it?"

She steps away from the bed, saying "We've got his brother's cell phone number on his records, we should call that. I'm sure he'll want to come straight over. They're very close. I'll come right out and do it."

She dials Sam's number, and hears it switch straight to voicemail. "Sam. It's Isabel, one of Dean's nurses, erm Rosie you know. Dean's had a bit of a setback, but we've got him stabilised again now, but you might want to give me a call when you get this message. Don't worry though, we're keeping a close eye on him, he'll be fine." She hung up, wondering why after all this time she couldn't get through to Sam. Why after being so solicitous throughout both of Dean's stays in hospital, he would walk away tonight?

She checked on her other patients before heading back into Dean's room. She looked down at him, contemplating the changes she had seen in him. The first time he had come in, his injuries had been horrendous, legs broken, head injury, the most appalling wounds on his chest that she had ever seen and bruising, yet when he had woken from his coma, he had seemed strong, vibrant, a fighter, determined. This time, some of his injuries were less, some had healed, but not the one on his chest, but he had changed, he seemed more fragile, vulnerable, she was unnerved by the change in his personality, his need for reassurance, and in that maybe she had the answer to Sam's absence tonight.he sat for a time and watched the man before her sleep quietly.

* * *

Sam walks fast and angry. He'd handled that badly but he didn't know, couldn't work out what he should have done, how he could have handled it better. Dean was just so… difficult. God, it was hard enough with him normally, with his no chick flick moments and refusal to talk, his brash egotistical way of barging through life but this Dean was so much harder. This Dean, who was lying in a bed in a hospital, trying to talk to him was like treading on eggshells. it was frustrating and all Sam wanted to do was make things better but he couldn't put it right, he couldn't change what had happened. This Dean tried to talk but couldn't remember the conversations. He couldn't remember things that had happened. This Dean wouldn't make the first step to reconciling with Sam when things fell apart and that he realises is the problem. He is used to Dean being the one to back down. He would bluster and fuss, but he would find the way for them to move on. Sam relied on him to do that. But now Dean can't do that, Sam needs to do that for him. Sam has to do that so that they can move on. But first Sam has to make sure Dad has gone and that he won't come back, because Dean needs time to heal, not guilt and disappointment. He looks round; a vague recollection of his surroundings surprises him. It's a long walk back to town from here. He crosses the road, sticks out his thumb and walks, hoping someone will stop and give him a ride.

* * *

Bobby saw the car in the parking lot of the motel, so it hadn't taken long to track down his location. Making a quick stop at his own car, he headed in to the motel reception. "A man checked in not long ago," he says to the clerk. "That's his," he points through the window to John's truck, "I need to speak to him, it's quite urgent. Which room is he in?" 

"I'm sorry sir, I can't tell you that." The clerk's face is adamant, so Bobby turns and leaves.

Just then a little luck comes his way, as he sees John cross the parking lot and head for the door two down from his own. He stays back in the shadows until John has his back to him and is letting himself into his room. He strides silently across the lot and as John opens the door, Bobby uses his momentum to push them both inside the room, drawing his gun and holding it on John as he kicks the door to behind them. "Johnny, what are you doing here?"

"I think it's me who should be asking that. I'm here for my son."

"Just the one, Winchester? Didn't you have two of them last time I looked? Or is there something the matter with one of them?"

"I'm not talking about this with you, Bobby. It's none of your fucking business."

"Oh but it is, you see Johnny, I'm making it my business. I am not going to let you fuck those boys over again. It's over. I told you if I saw you again, I would shoot you after the last time but this… You really do scrape the bottom of the barrel don't you? And before you start, don't give me any ex-marine crap; I'm too old for your kind of brainwashing."

"They're my sons; it's down to me to decide…"

"Down to you… that's right… it's down to you that their lives are such a fucking mess. It's down to you, Dean is lying in that hospital, hanging on by the barest of threads. It's down to you those boys have been to hell and back."

"Fine, you want to go all protective, you do that. You go camp out with Dean and keep me away, he's no fucking use to me in a hospital bed anyway, I need a son who's going to help me track down the bastard that killed Mary and Dean is too soft for that. I've come for Sam; he knows what it is to lose someone you care about."

"I think you might need to re-think that plan. Trust me, all those years of brainwashing might have worked on Dean but someone else was busy shaping Sam. Intentional or not, that person has given Sam a pretty good idea what sort of man you are and Sam's not going to follow you on this hunt. There's only one place he'd follow you and that's to Hell, just to make sure you got in, then he'd turn right on back and come find his brother."

"He lost Jessica…"

"He knows that. He lives with that every day of his life, but he isn't going to lose Dean to the same thing, not while he can fight. If I were you, Johnny boy, I'd get, while the getting's good."

Both men turn at the sound of loud banging on the door, Bobby nods at John. He shouts, "Who is it?"

"Me, let me in."

Without letting his gun drop or taking his eyes of the other man, Bobby uses his free hand to open the lock and let Sam in. As the door closes behind him, Sam strides across the room, forcing his Dad up against the wall, "What do you want? Why are you here?"

"I've come for you, Sam." His voice is strained against the pressure of Sam leaning on him, trapping the air from moving freely in and out of his lungs.

"Me! Fuck off, old man, I don't want to know."

"Your brother…"

"My brother needs me, and I'm wasting my time on you for one reason and one reason only. I am going to tell you this only the once. If I see you again, I will kill you, father or not. If you go anywhere near Dean, I will hunt you down and make you pay. What you've done to him… You're no father to either of us. It's over. There's no Caleb and no Pastor Jim left. No-one to try and talk us into taking you back, you are on your own and I hope you get what you deserve."

"Sam, it was the demon that ruined our lives, made it this way, surely you can see that, understand that. It took your Mom and Jessica."

"And you took Dean's life and tore it up and ruined it. You tried to do the same with mine, but he didn't let you, did he? Is that what really pisses you off about him? That he was a good parent. At five and six, he had more of a clue than you did. And at 21, he was the one who supported me, no matter how much it hurt, he was the one who gave me the strength to get free. What did you do to him then, Dad? Tell me that, what did you do to him when I left?" An adrenaline rush of anger allows Sam the strength to force his father back against the wall repeatedly, banging his head over and over again.

* * *

"Sam," there is caution in Bobby's voice. "Let him down. Either kill him or let him go, but don't go down that path, just let it go. For Dean's sake, let it go." 

Sam's eyes flash angrily at Bobby before returning to John, "Tell me!" His arm is across John's throat restricting his breathing further.

He loosens his hold slightly, enough for John to get air to answer, "I told him what I thought of his pussying around. His pathetic attempts to be a good soldier, his failure to be a good son and a good brother. After all, you not only left, but you didn't look back, you didn't even call him and check on him, you don't care about him. It's only because your girl died, that you can even bear to put up with him and his whining, pathetic attempts to be accepted."

Sam doesn't need to hear any more. He didn't need to hear this much he realises, because he knew, he's known all along. He only has one question left, "Why? Why Dean? Why not me?"

"Why the pretty boy? I look at him and every time I see his fucking face, I see your Momma, Sammy. She was beautiful, elegant, graceful and kind. Not some slut, with a loud mouth and attitude like your brother, not some over-dependent brainless foot soldier."

The punch he lands to his father's mouth is almost as much of a shock to Sam, as it is to John but he doesn't stop there. Awash in a red tidal wave of anger, he hits and hits again, and he can't stop until Bobby drags him away and out of the room.

"Stop it Sam. It's over. Stop it now." Sam shakes Bobby's hands off him and as he does, the anger is gone, leaving behind heartbreak and loss and exhaustion.

"Is he…? Did I…?"

"No Sam, you didn't. But I think he got the message. It's over."

"Oh my god! Dean! I left him. He's on his own." He struggles to his feet.

"He wasn't asleep? You left him alone."

"I've got to get back. I can't leave him like that. Oh god, Dean!"

"Wait, Sam! I'll drive you."

* * *

The two men hurry to Bobby's truck and race down the few blocks to the hospital. Sam leaps from the truck, before Bobby parks and rushes in through the doors, heading for the stairs to Dean's room, not wanting to waste time waiting for the elevators. He's half way down the corridor when Rosie steps out of Dean's room. "Sam! Whoa! Slow down, he's okay. I didn't mean to get you so worried, you could have just called, he's going to be fine, I think!" 

"Called? What do you mean?"

"My message? You did get my message?"

"No. My cell, I turned it off, I haven't had chance to turn it back on. What's happened? Is he alright?" He tries to make it into Dean's room, but she firmly stands in his way and pushes him gently back out into the corridor.

"Sam, calm down and we'll talk and then you can go in there. He's asleep now,so we've got time. And before you see him, maybe you need to tidy yourself up a bit." It's then as she lets her gaze drift over his dishevelled appearance that she notices his bloody hands. "Sam, what happened?"

"I… It's nothing. Dean?"

"Okay, I'll make a deal. You sit here, I'll sort these out for you, and at the same time, I'll tell you what happened." He flops into the nearest chair. She moves to get what she needs to clean up his hands. When she returns, she sees him with his head in his hands ,and Bobby sitting next to him, rubbing circles on his back.

She stands at a distance until Bobby sees her and nods for her to come forward. "Sam. It's over now, let the nurse look at your hands and then you can go into see Dean. I'm sure she'll let you see Dean, then."

"Okay, Sam. Hold your hands out for me. You've really worked something over there with them, haven't you? Let me clean them up and then I'll cover them okay. Do you want me to get you something for the pain before I start?"

"Just… whatever… Just do it and tell me what happened to Dean."

"He got anxious again after you left." She sees him close his eyes, as if to block out the memory of the earlier panic attacks, "We didn't know straight away, it wasn't until his monitors showed it up that we knew. I hadn't realised you'd left, I'd have checked on him sooner. I'm sorry. He couldn't calm down and he was having difficulty breathing." She saw the older man, grasp his shoulder in sympathy, "We had to sedate him but he's fine now. The sedative should wear off and he'll wake up in the morning. There shouldn't be a lasting problem."

"I shouldn't have left him like I did. I didn't think. We'd argued. I never thought he'd panic like that. He told me to go. I thought it was what he wanted, at least then, some space, that it would be alright when I got back."

"There you go. All cleaned up. Sam, I'm not going to ask where you got them. I'm sure you know what's what but is there someone who needs help? Do we need to send the EMTs to whoever was on the other end of this? Don't tell me details, just where if you think…?" She left it open for his response.

But it was Bobby who replied, "Room 12 at the motel down the road, but he's probably alright, he'll probably have gone by the time they get there"

"That's fine. I just don't want anyone to come here looking for Sam and needing to take him away. Dean needs him to be here when he wakes up. He doesn't need the police. Now I suggest that you, two, very quietly go and find seats in there with Dean for a bit. Reassure yourselves that he's okay. Sam, are you going to stay? Do you want me to find you a blanket, so you can try and get some sleep, while you're here?"

"I'm not going anywhere. I should never have left in the first place. He should never have been alone."

"Come on, lad. Stop dwelling. Strong remember, that's what he needs. Even if you have to pretend, you need to be strong for him. We're here, Sam. If you need us, we're here."

Rosie looks at the grizzled old man, nods her agreement and wonders if he's an uncle. Certain of one thing though, he certainly seems nicer than the boys' father and he's here more often.

The two men make their way into Dean's room, where Sam immediately takes up his brother's hand and runs his fingers through his hair, "I'm sorry Dean. I'm so sorry. I didn't want him to hurt you anymore and instead I did." Tears fall down his face, landing on Dean's cheek. "I didn't mean to leave you alone. I was just… I didn't know how to make it right. I'm sorry. I realised whenever we fight, it's you isn't it, you always make things right again. You always find a way for us to talk and put it behind us. This time, this once when you needed me to do it, I messed up. I didn't realise until it was too late."

"Sam?" Dean's voice is barely there, thick with sleep, "you're back, that's good."

"Yeah, I'm back, Dean. Go back to sleep, I'll watch over you."

"You need sleep, voice funny."

"I'm okay. Just close your eyes again, Dean, it'll be okay."

"Hmm. Sammy?"

"Yeah"

"Wanna get comfortable?" The words are slurred, but Sam knows what he's asking.

"Sure, Dean. Move over a touch and then we'll sort it." He helps him move then sits up leaning back against the headboard, taking his brother in his arms and stroking his hair as he falls back to sleep.

Bobby stands, pats Sam on the shoulder, "It'll be okay, Sam. See you can do it. You know what Dean needs just now. I'll be back in the morning. I'll make sure he's gone. Now I'm an old man and I need a proper bed to sleep in, so I'll see you later."

"Bobby, before you go. Can you help me with one thing?"

"Sure. What?"

"I never put his salve on tonight; can you give me a hand with it?" He holds up his bandaged hands.

"Okay." It only takes a few minutes. Then Bobby leaves and Sam drifts to a half-sleep with his brother resting in his arms.

* * *


	14. It's a New Day

**_There's a Way Through to the Other Side In The End _****_

* * *

_**

**_Disclaimer: Supernatural doesn't belong to me, nor do Dean, Sam, or the other characters you recognise. I am making no money so please don't come looking for me._**

**_

* * *

Warning: some violence as the story progresses_**

**_Spoilers - post-end of Series 1 Devil's Trap so some passing mention of events in Season episodes such as Faith, Home, Devil's Trap etc._**

**_Thanks to all who have offered feedback._**

**_

* * *

_****_Chapter 14 – It's a new day_**

Sam wakes as the dawn light begins to sift through the window, falling onto the bed. He figures it's odd this repetition: hospital room, Dean sick, dawn light and his desire for something different, but not the 'normal' he's been hunting for years.

He shifted position, careful of Dean who was still sleeping. Rosie had been back in a couple of times to check on them. The first time she'd tried to get him to move, not really the done thing to have him on the bed with his brother apparently. Sam had tried to explain that it was what Dean had wanted. She'd pointed out that Dean was sedated and couldn't have asked. Sam knew he had, but couldn't really argue the point, so he carefully began to extricate himself from under his brother. Well, that had proved Sam's point to Rosie. Dean had pulled himself awake enough to register Sam's leaving and had begged him to stay. The fear of being alone and losing Sam was evident in his words, motions and features. Rosie had relented after extracting a promise from Sam that he would move before rounds in the morning, she didn't need to get into trouble for this.

Sam appreciated the kindness she had shown. He figured that maybe now was as good a time as any to fulfil his part of the deal, after all he was getting stiff, surprised that it hadn't happened sooner. He gently tried to lift Dean enough to slide round. "Sammy?"

"Hey, you awake there?"

"Uh-huh. You came back?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry Dean, I shouldn't have gone."

"Told you to."

"I know, but still… I shouldn't have gone."

"Glad you're back."

"Me too. Look, Dean…"

"No nightmares, Sam, I didn't have a nightmare."

"That's good." Sam hopes it is more than just the fact that Dean was sedated, that has allowed him a night without nightmares. "Dean…"

"You want to go?"

"No, I just need to get up, I'm getting stiff and I kind of promised Rosie, I'd move before the docs came round and she got in to trouble for letting me get in bed with you – hospital policy and all that."

"You're staying?"

"Yeah."

"Shame."

"What? What do you mean?"

"You could do with a shower, bro, trust me." Sam can't help but laugh at Dean's response, it's so… _Dean_.

"Fair enough. We'll make a deal, you let me out now and I'll go for a shower."

"I'll let you out now, you'll stay for a bit then you'll go for a shower."

"I can live with that." The two men manoeuvre round, so Sam can stand up allowing Dean to lie back on the bed, looking at his brother. Sam flexes knees and shoulders, trying to relieve the stiffness in them.

"You okay, Sam?"

"Sure, just a little stiff."

"What did you do to your hands?" Sam looks down at the bandaging on his hands and wonders what to say about the events the night before. "Sam, did you…" Dean's voice is sad, "Did you see Dad?"

Sam sighs and looks away, focussing on the growing light outside avoiding looking at his brother, "I'm sorry Dean."

"Has he gone?"

"Probably."

"Good." Sam looks back at Dean in surprise. "We're through. You and me, we don't need him anymore, right? That's what you said. You meant it?"

"Yeah, I meant it." Relief washes over Sam, maybe they can find their way through this. "We'll be fine without him."

"Better than fine, Sam. It's been us for years. We know how it works."

"Yeah, Dean. We do."

"Now bro, I think it's time you went and got that shower, because there are some really nice nurses in this hospital and I might be able to fix you up with one, but not while you smell like that."

"You sure? You ok on your own?"

"Gotta do it sometime, Sam."

"Okay, that's good then." Yes today was going to be a good day. Dean was right, not just about the shower thing, it had been them for years and they did know how it worked – life with the two of them. But best of all, right now, Sam could believe that Dean was going to get better. "I'll see you later then."

Sam stood up and walked to the door. He stopped with his hand on the door and looked back, remembering what Rosie had told him had happened the night before. Dean had told him to go then but hadn't really wanted him to go. Dean smiled, "I can do this, just…"

"I'll be half an hour."

"Make it an hour and bring something decent to eat – Hospital food, dude!" he said with a grimace.

"An Hour?"

"An hour, Sammy. I can do an hour, plus those nurses will keep me occupied for some of it."

"An hour it is then. Anything in particular you want to eat?"

"Whatever you find that looks good. Not healthy, good!"

"Deal."

"Sammy, thanks."

"It's Sam and you're welcome." Both smiled and Sam left the room.

He moved out of sight of the door and stood waiting, wondering if Dean was going to be okay. How long did he need to wait to be sure? "Sammy! That shower is waiting for you!" The shout from Dean's room made him grin.

He poked his head round the door, "Sorry, just wanted to be sure… you know…" Dean sighed and gestured that he should go, shaking his head. "I'll be back soon."

"In an hour. I know. But only if you get going now and get a move on. By the time you get back, I'll be starving; I'll be agreeing to eat the hospital food so I don't die waiting for you to bring me something."

"Bye Dean."

"Bitch!"

"Jerk!"

Sam stopped at the nurses' station and caught Rosie's eye. "Hey Sam. Thanks for you know… the deal."

* * *

"Rosie, I wouldn't want you to get in to trouble. Thanks for letting me stay; I think it helped… us both. He's awake now, he seems better this morning. He's sending me off for a shower and breakfast." 

"That's good."

"It means he'll…"

"Be on his own. I'll check on him. Don't worry; I'll call you if we need you. What time will you be back?"

"He's told me to come back in an hour. He thinks he can handle that."

"Good. I'm sure he can then. Are your hands okay?"

"I'll have a look, when I get the rest of me cleaned up."

"If you need someone to look at them, when you get back, let me know. We… we don't have to… you know… tell anyone."

"Rosie… err Isabel isn't it, sorry… thank you for that. I… It was just something I needed to sort out. I promise you, I didn't kill anyone or anything. It was just a fight. I needed to sort it for Dean and… well for me too, I guess."

"Your Dad?"

"How did you know?"

"Guessed. You two don't get on. You and Dean seem much nicer than he does and your friends, the ladies, the man who was with you last night, they seemed nice too."

"Yeah, thanks again."

"Sam… go get that shower. Please!"

* * *

Sam smiled as he left the hospital, walking briskly back to the motel. He knocked on Bobby's door, "Hey" 

"Sam? What are you doing here? How's Sport?"

"Good, he's doing good this morning. Just thought I'd let you know. I've come for a shower and to get us all some breakfast, do you want to join us?"

"Yeah, that'd be good. Sam, I…I kinda…I hope you don't mind… I grabbed your stuff, well yours and Dean's from your room and brought it in here, I figured it was silly paying for an empty room, when you were spending all your time up at the hospital and that if you wanted to stay here, there's a spare bed and…"

"Thanks. Listen, thanks for everything."

"So enough of that then, you say you've come for a shower…"

"Dean said…"

"Whatever he said, if it involved you having a shower, he was right. I'll give you some space to get yourself sorted. I'll go check on your car, then we can tell Dean how it's doing."

* * *

Rosie walked into the room with a smile and a cheery "Hello" relieved to see Dean looking calm, a little distracted but calm nonetheless. 

"Hey there. It looks like its going to be nice out today."

"Yeah, I hear you and Sam went out with your friend for a bit yesterday. When Sam gets back, you could maybe do the same again today. If you feel like it."

"That'd be good. Do you reckon I could do it without the chair?"

"We'll see what the doc says on his rounds about getting you up and mobile. You okay with letting me change those dressings and everything."

"Yeah. Feels better, kinda itchy, but that's normally good right? Healing, isn't it?"

"Let's have a look."

"Rosie, about yesterday…"

"Dean, don't worry."

"Yeah, well I'm sorry. I don't know what's the matter with me at the minute. You must think I'm a real wuss."

"Not really. I know most people would have caused loads more fuss about injuries like yours, so you weren't feeling so hot last night, it's no big deal."

"Thanks for that. I don't think you're telling the truth, but thanks anyway."

"Okay, how about this? I think you've been through a lot. This is your second visit to ICU just recently. Last night you were upset and you had a moment."

He smiled at her, "A moment?"

"Yeah, a moment. No big deal."

"So, dressings then?"

"Yep! Let me have a look."

"You just can't wait to get me naked."

"You're terrible." She blushed, but figured she'd try a riposte, see if she could get her own back. "Anyway with a brother like yours, what makes you think you'd get a look in"

"So Sammy's more your type is he? I could put a word in there if you like."

"He…I… You… You wouldn't…I'd be…"

"So that's a yes please, Dean, then. What do you like pizza, Chinese? Pictures? Sam likes a good movie, you a chick flick kinda girl, 'cos he is. I can't take him to a decent horror movie at all. He hides in my shoulder for the whole thing and action movies – can't take the blood and guts. He's no fun."

"You… it's…"

"You should get that speech thing looked at. I've not noticed it before, but it seems to get worse when your cheeks go that lovely shade – maybe you're allergic to something."

"Yes. I am. YOU! Maybe someone else should come and do this today. We've got a new nurse starting in about a half hour…"

"Sounds good. What's she like?"

"Well, HE is about…"

"Aw! No fair! I'll be quiet if you do it."

"Sure?"

"Promise." They exchanged a smirk. "You're getting better at this you know," he said. "You make me work harder."

"Glad to hear it."

"You still blush nice though." She pushed his shoulder to get him to stop. "Sam's gone for a shower and to get some food. He's coming back in an hour."

"Yeah. You okay with that?"

"I think so." She heard the slight waver in his voice.

"Do you want me to hang around, when I've finished this?"

"No. I can do this. I've got to do this."

"Good. I wouldn't want to sit with you anyway." She smiled.

"You're a cruel woman."

"Too right. This is looking good, keep on like this and I'm sure you'll be out of here before you know it."

"Thanks."

"That's me done. Here, I brought these by a couple of days ago. I thought you might need them at some point," She passes him some of the magazines she'd brought. "There's even some about old cars."

"Old cars? I think you mean classic cars."

"Old? Classic? What's the difference?"

"Style! The right classic car is cool."

"So I take it you have an old car then."

"Yeh, unfortunately. Had a classic before the accident," he aid sadly.

"You'll have another one day."

"Yeah, I will. Won't be the same though. I think I'll always miss my girl."

"Your girl?"

"She was beautiful, a '67 Chevy Impala. An awesome car."

"So older than you then? Wasn't rust a problem?"

"Rust? Do you think I would let my baby rust?"

"So you spend a ton of money on gas, on repairing bits that fall off, rust, wear out. You don't have like a proper girlfriend, do you?"

"…erm… I've never had any problem with attracting a nice girl."

"No problem attracting, what about keeping?"

"Sam and I used to move around a lot before the accident."

"So, what sort of car does Sam drive?"

"Mine usually. But he was driving when we had the accident so I'm not going to let him drive anymore."

"So, you're not going to trust him with your car anymore? So you're going to be getting about how exactly?"

"You really know how to kick a guy when he's down!"

"No trust me, I don't pick on the ones who are down. I'm a nurse. I save it all up for wise guys who can take it!" Dean was amazed at how positive that made him feel – he wasn't an invalid, he was Dean and he could do joking, he could do snark, he could do… whatever he wanted. "Right Dean, I think that's you all sorted, so I've got some other jobs I need to do, so I'm going to leave you to look at those and I'm going to get on. Press the call button if you need anything."

"I'll be fine."

"I know you will."

* * *

**_Author's Note; One more to go and counting._**


	15. A Fresh Start

_**There's a Way Through to the Other Side In The End **_

**_

* * *

Disclaimer: Supernatural doesn't belong to me, nor do Dean, Sam, or the other characters you recognise. I am making no money so please don't come looking for me._**

**_Warning_**: some violence as the story progresses

**_Spoilers_** - post-end of Series 1 Devil's Trap so some passing mention of events in Season episodes such as Faith, Home, Devil's Trap etc

**_

* * *

Thanks to all who have offered feedback throughout this story and to Rae Artemis for her support._**

* * *

_**Chapter 15 – A Fresh Start**_

Weeks later, Dean was amazed at how good he was feeling now. The change was phenomenal. Once the lacerations on his chest had healed, it was as if they had taken with them, the sound of the demon's voice. All the others had dimmed back to what he was used to, some of them vanishing all together. He'd spoken to Missouri, who it turned out, had visited whilst he was in hospital, so that accounted for at least one of the voices. Apparently, he had her to thank for the gunk he was putting on his chest, which was behind the fantastic recovery.

Sam had cornered him for that conversation. Sam had suggested that he himself might find it useful to talk to her on the phone, psychic advice he'd said. It turned out ,he just wanted to get Dean to talk to her, because there were some things that needed saying apparently. Embarrassed at the thought of anyone, let alone Missouri with her ability to make him feel like he was six and in trouble again, poking around inside his head and . finding out what was really going on in there. That had resulted in a real humdinger of an argument with Sam.

Boy! Had he needed to apologise to Bobby after that one. Sure he and Sam had their disagreements and who could fail to miss it, but the real corkers they usually saved until they were well away from witnesses. Well, that wasn't so easy just at the minute, because they were staying at Bobby's. While Sam could get in the car and drive, Dean couldn't yet, although it wouldn't be much longer now. Sam had refused to take Dean anywhere private. Dean reckoned Sam thought it meant he wouldn't get the tongue-lashing he deserved, but in the end Dean hadn't been able to hold back any longer. If he'd been up to it, he'd have probably thrown a few punches as wel,l just to really make himself feel better. Unfortunately, it would take a few more weeks before he felt up to that. Not that he was ruling out the possibility as soon as he did.

Yeah, Missouri. She'd said some things that had left Dean thinking.. He'd had enough time on his hands lately for that. Bobby kept himself busy most of the day with the cars he had knocking about the place and the stuff people asked him to look at. Sam went off to the bookshop most days of the week. Dean had taken it upon himself to make sure the place was kept relatively tidy and had cooked meals and stuff for the other two as much as he could. After all, he was still relying on them to buy stuff that he could cook.

Missouri had spoken about the Demon's voice, asked what he thought about what it had said. He tried brushing it off, but Missouri wasn't going with that. Eventually he admitted it had been getting him down 'a bit' but like he told Sam, demons lie all the time. Woman's intuition or psychic powers, he wasn't sure, she'd asked him which bits he thought the demon hadn't been lying about. That was the point at which he'd realised it probably wasn't worth pretending anymore and came right out and said what he thought. The demon was right to say he needed his family more than they needed him. Thing was Missouri hadn't exactly put that claim to rest, she'd said that if he looked properly he'd know that some people needed him and wanted him around and others well all, it needed was for Dean to realise that he probably didn't need them as much as he thought he did – Dean figured she meant Sam for the first and Dad for the second. For the first time ever he actually felt like maybe he could handle that, maybe it was Dad's loss, not his and not Sam's. So long as he and Sam were good, everything would work out eventually.

Well, that was the hiccup really, when he had started in on Sam about trapping him and forcing him into doing things he didn't want to do. He'd wanted to know what did Sam know about anything. It was fine while Sam was shouting back, but then Sam went and got in the car and drove away.

Bobby hadn't been happy about the repercussions of that one. Dean spending an hour and a half vomiting in the bathroom, incoherently panicking that Sam wouldn't come back was no-one's idea of a good way to spend an evening. Then not long after Dean had taken himself to bed, claiming cautiously, he was going to be okay now, Sam had sauntered back in after 'just' two hours, oblivious to the drama he had left behind. Bobby's normally placid outlook on life had been sorely tested, not quite to the John Winchester extreme but certainly well on the way. Bobby had pointed out how recently Dean had been released from hospital, how he was still in need of other people providing the common sense part of the relationship because he wasn't fully recovered and was still edgy. He reminded Sam how he claimed to be the sensible and mature one, but certainly hadn't been behaving that way. Dean had heard the argument from his bed, where he'd retreated as soon as he figured he could stop trying to retch the last of his insides out. He didn't have the energy to stand up let alone go and share the blame. The following morning he had apologised to both Bobby and Sam for his part in the previous day's shambles. It had blown over and the three of them had settled back into their routine.

Dean was surprised at how little he missed the motels, the constant moving even as he began to feel better, it was nice not to be constantly on the move. As his health improved, he started helping Bobby out with the cars and with other stuff round and about the house. He discovered that he had a knack for fixing things and he became quite a dab hand at making little improvements around the place, things that the other two would complain about but neither seemed inclined to work out how to mend. Having had the Impala for so long, he was in Bobby's words a real boon when it came to having a second pair of hands to work on the cars. The biggest surprise was how enjoyable it was, actually having something 'normal' to do. He still wasn't up to a full day's work so he bided his time working on stuff for Bobby but worried that whilst Sam was bringing in money to cover the costs of them living with Bobby, Dean himself still wasn't contributing. It had taken some considerable effort on Bobby's part to convince him that he was contributing – the work around the house, the help with the cars was his contribution. In fact Bobby had offered to make him a permanent employee of the Auto Salvage, to pay him for his time, but Dean had refused, sure that Bobby was being kind rather than standing to benefit from the arrangement.

The boys has started to talk about leaving, figuring they would stay in the area, stay in touch, but stop living on the generosity of Bobby, find their own place, both work to pay their way. Surprising how much 'normal' appealed. Bobby watched knowing they had to make their own decisions, for too long, their lives had been dictated – Dean's by the hunt for approval, Sam's by a desire for normal and an escape from his father. He hoped he'd said enough, hoped they would take him up on his offer of staying with him. It was strange how after living alone for so long, he relished the company, didn't find it burdensome but enjoyed the stimulation of the boys' personalities. Well he did, when they weren't tearing strips out of one another at least. He knew they would start hunting again eventually, although he hoped for both of their sakes, they didn't immerse themselves solely in that life because they deserved better.

Time went on and the boys didn't move out, didn't find anywhere they wanted to be. Dean worked a full day for Bobby and still cooked most evenings. Sam drove into town and worked at the bookshop before picking up groceries and coming home. "Home" – that was the key. The boys had been without a home for so long, that it took them a while to realise that they now had one, until one morning over breakfast, Dean had asked "What time will you be back tonight, Sam?"

Sam's reply without thinking, clinched it, "I'll be home about seven. Do you need me to pick anything up while I'm out?"

It registered in the thoughts of all three of them at about the same time, but it was Dean who said "Home?"

"I guess," came the reply.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right."

"Hmmm."

"So Bobby, you know you asked us if we'd like to stay, how does that sit with you now? Are you still okay with that?"

"Well I probably need my head examined, but I guess it's not so bad having the two of you around. I have to say I quite like the not having to shop continually for groceries. You know, Dean, you're quite nifty with those hands of yours – with the cars, around the house, in the kitchen – I could get used to this life, if you two can keep it up. But we'll need to make a proper arrangement for your working though, Dean, if you're still going to work for me that is.

"But… I think we've imposed enough. We'll pay our own way, it's only fair. We're really grateful for everything you've done for us and we don't want you to…"

"Dean. Stop. You have both been paying your way. Sam with money, you with the work you've done around the place for me. I offered before to pay you for what you do for the salvage. We'll make it official, and then you can give me some of the money back in rental. It's time." Dean acquiesced.

And so it was that in time, the boys found themselves holding down jobs, earning a wage, contemplating their new life. Eventually they did start hunting again, but it was a job, not their lives. And as far as Dean is concerned, right now he's just waiting, waiting because 'Rosie' is due any time. It's taken Dean sometime to convince her and Sam that they should go out for a night, but now he's feeling quite proud of himself as he watches her pull up in her car and Sam go down the steps to meet her.

Right now, life couldn't get much better and Dean, well, he, for one, was pleased to hear it.

* * *

_So that is it. Tell me what you think? It will be appreciated. I did it and go thewhole lot up beforeI leave._


	16. Chapter 16

For all those who enjoyed this story and said this was the wrong place to end it, or they wanted to know more about what happened to the boys, this story now has a sequel. It is entitled "Moving On" and is on its way. First three chapters should be going up shortly after this.

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and to all those who suggested I carry the story on. It now has two sequels although one is still in handwritten form as I am backpacking my way round the world and internet access is intermittent so updates will be as many as I can as often as I can for this part.

Please do continue to review as I watch anxiously to find out what people think before I start writing my new pieces.


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